By Bart Barry-
Round the time of Roman Gonzalez’s 28th prizefight – a March 19, 2011 decision defense of his second world title in a light flyweight beating of Mexican Manuel “El Chango” Vargas in Mexico – Chocolatito picked up a modifier suddenly persistent in use by comentaristas whether Nicaraguan or Mexican: Elegante.
How apt.
Chocolatito’s physique, the wingspan and unobstructive chest complemented by shoulders fit for a 150-pound man on any downtown sidewalk in North America and tapered midsection set on powerful legs all supporting a noticeably handsome face on a head whose top did not gain the uppermost rope of every ringpost, made one consider he might be special before his athleticism proved it, his long arms never improperly stretched out their centered frame.
To see Gonzalez advance on an opponent in his slight crouch both legs bent, a line of symmetry crotch to lowered chin, brings the quintessence of every hope every trainer has ever for every charge his first day in the gym when told to put his left fist forward with his left foot – no, not your right; no, it doesn’t matter what’s comfortable; no, no, I don’t care how your cousin showed you; yes exactly, because you’re right handed; no, no, not . . . get your hands up; listen kid, you’re not gonna come in here and reinvent boxing – and makes that trainer smile like he forgot he could at our beloved sport so badly stained by a halfdecade’s waiting for Mayweather-Pacquiao. It’s that sensation more than others one feels when he sees the opening rounds of Gonzalez’s match with El Chango Vargas: “Finally, someone I can tell others to watch, this, the little guy in the blue and white, you see that? it’s perfect, it’s exactly how you’re supposed to do it.”
Too much later got made of Gonzalez’s temperament outside the ring his religiosity and philanthropy and general goodness because too much is always made of everything in America’s vending of athletes – a pathological greed tells us to tell others one can have it all and be all to every and be meaningful to meaningless people if their lives’ meaning might temporarily be derived from buying our product which is such a bargain we’re practically giving it away – but the Nicaraguans saw it at once as one of their own and the Mexicans saw it soon as Gonzalez began dashing their best little men. Gonzalez’s temperament was unusual for a man who made his living concussing other men depicting no malice no rage nothing to imbalance while stopping never to admire his craftsmanship or effect just continuing to twirl his hips and whirl his fists sans intent of any kind till there was the other man’s face, behold! a bloody lumpen mess.
Twenty months by then passed since the violent death of Chocolatito’s mentor, Alexis Arguello known uniquely simply as “Alexi” in Nicaraguan broadcasts, by Arguello’s own hand or someone else’s and those who suspected someone else’s suspected nothing so ghoulish might be done Nicaragua’s greatest ambassador without consent from President Daniel Ortega, running for reelection in 2011. Whether by personal passion or health insurance for his family Chocolatito went in the ring wearing a white cotton “I (heart) Sandinista National Liberation Front” t-shirt each match of that campaign season – setting American viewers of a certain age to wonder whatever did happen to those Contras and Iranians and Ollie North?
Chocolatito elevated his opponents even while he razed them and then toweled a red gash over one eye (Omar Salado) or helped lift the ruined to his stool (Omar Soto) after framing an act of ceaseless heroism for El Chango Vargas in the Mexican state of Puebla, once more at 7,000 feet higher altitude than Gonzalez’s native Managua and it told, as the Mexican’s jaw looked surely broken in round two but he didn’t relent for a halfhour more and didn’t take an iota’s fraction off a single punch he thrust at Chocolatito in a barely noted show of valor so extreme Hollywood’d make 90 minutes and a love story of it, were Vargas an American heavyweight. Instead it was a 108-pound Nicaraguan versus a 108-pound Mexican in San Pedro Cholula and both men, “Little Chocolate” Gonzalez and “Monkey” Vargas, wore the same classic-red Reyes gloves and did ringwalks to each other’s music and caredn’t a whit for what pomposity happened in American ringwalks and ringwear that same year.
Even Chocolatito’s American debut was unfrilled in the fall when after brutalizing and decisioning the Mexican Vargas in Mexico and brutalizing plainly the Mexican Salado in Mexico Chocolatito iced the overweight Mexican Soto in Las Vegas on a night that deservedly belonged to an Argentine middleweight in Atlantic City broadcasted by HBO, the American cable network that recently and fortunately decided to make a promotional celebration of Gonzalez. Fighting on a Top Rank card for Teiken Promotions Chocolatito went in deep and savage with “El Lobito” Soto who barely made flyweight for his junior-flyweight scrap in which Gonzalez proved himself right formidable at the next weightclass when he alpenhorned Soto to the blue mat with a left uppercut that made “The Little Wolf” submissive.
That year Nicaragua again ratified the Sandinistas with Comandante Daniel’s reelection and Gonzalez boxed Vargas gorgeously, spun Salado expertly, stretched Soto frighteningly – while Floyd suckered Vicious Vic, and Manny sparred Shane and robbed Juan Manuel.
Bart Barry can be reached via Twitter @bartbarry
