Johnny Tapia: Livin' Day by Day & Doin' Good photos & text by chris cozzone Contents: Tapia 101 Background on Johnny Interview with Johnny Tapia

Tapia 101

There’s a helluva lot of tragedy in boxing. We got punch-drunk fighters, broke fighters, fighters going in and outta prison, fighters hooked on drugs, fighters selling drugs, mob-controlled fighters, promoter-controlled fighters, murdered fighters, murdering fighters . . . the list goes on and on. Sure, there are good-boy, clean-cut pro boxers (some are even successful)—fighters who’ve never walked the dark side. But there are fewer fighters who’ve emerged from darkness, complete and at peace.

Johnny Tapia is one such man. Not only does Tapia’s life chronicle the triumph of a boxer from the barrio, but his life—his “mi vida loca”—stands for something bigger: the will to survive and overcome all obstacles.

His life reads like fiction. His father was murdered before he was born. At the age of seven, Johnny went over a 100-foot cliff in a bus; both he and a pregnant woman seated next to him were hurled out the window. She was killed; Johnny, obviously, was not. The next year, his mother, Virginia, was brutally murdered. His grandparents continued to raise him.

It was one year later that Johnny started boxing. By the time he was 21, he’d won two National Golden Glove titles and had an amateur record of 101-21, with 65 KO’s. In 1988, he turned pro and 21 straight wins later, won the USBA Junior Bantamweight title. Then he got addicted to cocaine.

Tapia became a frequent visitor at the Bernalillo County Detention Center, racking up DWI convictions and arrests due to reckless behavior. Although he continued to box (and win), Johnny lost his shot at a world title when he tested positive for cocaine three times in ’90 and ’91. The only thing keeping him alive was taken away: Tapia was suspended from professional boxing.

For the next three years, Tapia did not enter the ring. During that time, he nearly died from drug overdoses. With the help of Teresa Chavez (who eventually became Teresa Tapia, his wife and now his manager) Johnny was able to kick the habit and return to boxing in 1994. He knocked off five straight wins, capturing the NABF Junior Bantamweight title in a 3^rd Round TKO over Oscar Aguilar. This paved the way for a shot at his first world title. Three months later, before a hometown crowd in Albuquerque, Johnny Tapia became the WBO Junior Bantamweight champ after an 11^th round TKO over Henry Martinez.

During the three years he defended his title, Johnny also added the IBF Junior Bantamweight title to his collection when he fought against hometown rival Danny Romero in 1997. Both belts were given up in 1998 when he moved up in weight by fighting for—and winning—the WBA Bantamweight title against Nana Konuda. That title was his until June of ’99 when he went up against Paulie Ayala.

The day of the fight with Ayala, Johnny found out the identity of the man who’d murdered his mother so many years before (a man who’d been killed in a traffic accident in ‘83.) Taking that into the ring with him, Tapia slugged it out with Ayala for 12 solid rounds in what turned out to be, by general consensus, 1999’s Fight of the Year. The decision could’ve gone either way; there are many who still think Tapia won the fight—but Ayala took the title that night.

Johnny took six months off and came back in January of this year to battle Jorge Eliecer Julio for the WBO Bantamweight title. He scored a 12-round decision over the defending titleholder and took home his fourth World title.

In May of this year, Johnny defended his title against Javier Torres. And then, this summer, after a bout of depression and a bizarre incident near his home in Ruidoso involving a nutbag with a gun, Johnny gave up his title and moved up in weight.

That brings us up to date. Today, his record stands at 48-1-2, with 25 KO’s—the likes of which you don’t see these days.  Nowadays, if a champ fights twice a year and has thirty-something fights before he retires at thirty-something, he’s deemed an active fighter.

Tapia has made an even bigger move by vacating his title in order to move up in weight to fight the only man in boxing to beat him: Paulie Ayala. What’s more: the fight scheduled for October 7^th in Las Vegas is a non-title fight. These guys just want to bang it out again: Ayala, to prove the first time wasn’t a fluke; and Tapia, to settle the score.

Yeah, I guess you can tell I like the guy. But how can you not? Johnny Tapia is an intense boxer who enriches the sport. And he’s a likeable guy. In a sport filled with big heads, a big heart is about as common as . . . well, as a title-unification fight. Plus, along with Danny Romero, Tapia has put New Mexico boxing on the map.

If you won’t or can’t like the guy, you can at least respect him. 

Interview with Johnny Tapia

From Albuquerque, I traveled down to Ruidoso with a friend of mine, Andy Rivera, a Golden Gloves champ and who, as it turns out, was also a good friend of Johnny’s in high school. On the 3 hour drive to Ruidoso, Andy told me stories of him and Johnny at Albuquerque High: how Andy would get a knock on his bedroom window at 10 PM and there would be Johnny, asking to borrow $20 for a Lottoburger Combo (which would decrease to $10, then $5—whatever he could get); how Johnny ditched school all the time to shoot hoop; how the high school shut down classes for an hour to show a tape of Johnny’s win at the National Golden Gloves—never mind that Johnny barely made his grades and skipped school all the time.

We got there right in time for the afternoon training session, joining Johnny, his brother Rob and trainer Jesse Reid in his private gym on the side of the house. After introductions and a brief reunion between Andy and Johnny (Okay, so you weren’t pulling my leg . . .) the training started. Johnny warmed up, then went through ten rounds of hitting the mitts with trainer Jesse Reid. After that, he shadow-boxed a few rounds, then hit the speed bag for several more rounds. A thousand ab crunches followed, during which time Andy and I talked to Jesse Reid.

Any problems Reid and Johnny have had in the past, Reid said, have been buried. The two are hitting it off and getting ready for the October 7^th rematch with Paulie Ayala. Reid was optimistic as all hell about Tapia whupping Ayala come October 7^th; and he hinted about a “sooner-than-expected” showdown with the Prince next year.

Reid then took off for El Paso; he had a plane to catch to West Virginia where he was meeting up with Paul Spadafora. That Saturday, he was working Spadafora’s corner in his fight against Rodney Jones. After the fight, Spadafora and Reid would be returning to Ruidoso where the Pittsburgh Kid would spar with Johnny.

While Johnny hit the showers, Rob took us on a tour of Johnny’s trophy room: a room plastered with fight pics and posters, the most prominent being a blow-up of Tapia and Ayala going toe-to-toe. Hard not to notice were also Tapia’s four World Champion belts, attached to headless, armless, legless mannequins.

We watched cartoons on the couch, along with Johnny’s son Jonathan, reminiscing about the cool shows of olden times: Land of the Lost, Scooby-Doo (well, not so cool), until Johnny joined us for the interview...

Chris Cozzone (CC): You've moved up in weight and given up your WBO title . . . was that hard to do? Or have titles sorta lost their meaning to you?

Johnny Tapia (JT): Actually, it might be a title fight. I didn’t want to go ten rounds, I wanted to make it a title. I want to go 12 rounds. We’ll find out this week.

CC: But originally, it wasn’t a title-fight . . . does the fight mean more to you than the title?

JT: Oh yeah, believe me, by all means. If you understand, he beat me for my title. Now I want to win a title against him.

CC: Do you think title matches are important anymore? Or are the fighters more important?

JT: The fighters, by all means. It’s the fighters that make the title. You get two good fighters and you put them for a title . . . the fighter that wins that night is the champion. He represents the world title. Depends on what organization, there’s all kinds now.

CC: There are too many organizations these days . . .

JT: If you go back to the olden days, there was only one belt, one champion. Now these days, there’s so many organizations coming about. But it’s the champion that makes the organization now.

CC: Isn’t that one of the things wrong with boxing nowadays?

JT: Well, there’s a lot that happens in the business now. Instead of me judging . . . coming from the outside . . . I’m a fighter that likes to look at boxing. I love the sport of boxing. But I sure as hell don’t like what’s going on inside boxing.  

CC: Like what?

JT: Well, if I came out and said it, it might hurt me in the long run. Understand what I mean? If I was out of boxing, well, there’s a lot I could say, then. But right now I can’t say nothing about it because it might hurt me. They could go against me in my fights. I’d put my foot in my mouth.

CC: Are you still motivated to fight, just as much as you’ve always been?

JT: Oh, by all means. Especially now. I’ve wanted this guy for the last two years—has it been two years?—yeah, for the last two years I’ve been wanting this guy. For some reason. I just vacated my world title belt, WBO. Now we’re going for an IBA title. Oscar had it. Sugar Shane Moseley has it. Diego Corrales has it. Those are all big names.

CC: What keeps you motivated?

JT: I love the challenge. Today everybody knows that I change trainers like switchin’ my shorts. But the minute I start learning about boxing I’ll quit. I can just walk out . . . Well, I don’t know, it’s gonna be hard for me because I’ve been doing it now for 26 years. But y’know, I love the challenge. And it’s kept me living in life. For bigger and better things.

CC: So, you never get bored of boxing? At all?

JT: Not in the boxing game, I don’t. I have a good surrounding, good people. I’ve told my family, my brother Rob, my wife Teresa, that if I ever do something stupid, then it’s time to quit. And I might do a lot of things out of the ring that are stupid, but in the ring I’m at peace. I’m at home. I love the one-to-one combat. You can hit somebody and not go to jail for it.

CC: You were fighting depression this summer . . .

JT: Yeah . . . what happened was, they sent me to New York to sign a big contract, directly with Showtime. I was with a promoter named Frank Warren. Then they sent me to London—the contract was never done. Then I go to Paris. I took my wife; this was a vacation, plus to sign the contract. Again, nothing was done. So we come back to Vegas, by way of London, Paris, and New York. And there’s still no contract done. Meanwhile, they’ve already scheduled two fights that I’ve trained for. And it’s all off. I mean, they were off.

So, it was . . . I was training so hard for these fights and they just went down. And I just went like in a closed darkness. I was depressed because there was nothing going on, y’know? And I wasn’t home with my family, we were in Las Vegas and I wasn’t around my people. Just me and my wife; we were going through struggles right there and then. So I went into a depression. So I said, “Babe, let’s go back to New Mexico. Where we have the house in Ruidoso . . .”

CC: And then that guy took a shot at you . . .

JT: Yeah. So, once I get here, I . . just bought me a ’57 Chevy I’ll show you in a while . . . I started bugging out. There’s this guy who’s been following me for a while. I don’t know if he wanted me to pull over, or pull over to the side. So what I did was pull it to the side. I got out and asked him—I thought he was a cop—I said, “Yes, officer?” He asked me if something was wrong with my driving. I said, “What?” I went around him and he shot at me. At close range. And then he shot again, this time up in the air.

So, if there’s nothing going on in my life, something’s wrong, no? There’s always been something wrong in my life. But that does not stop me from fighting.

CC: And if something happens to you, everyone wants to read about it.

JT: Well, you put Johnny Tapia in the headlines, and people will want to buy papers. I make the headlines, good or bad. As long as they spell my name right, I guess I’m alright.

CC: Has your fight with depression had any effect on your wanting to fight?

JT: Nah. My life has been one big tunnel. At the age of 7, I went off a cliff. Seven months later, I lost my mother. My father got shot . . . at 8 years old, I lost my mom. So life’s been pretty tragic. But in the ring, it’s been a blessing. People can get out of the streets do something positive. If there’s 100 kids I talk to, and I can get just one to listen, then I’ve done my job, no?

Boxing’s been my blessing. It won’t matter if you look way back at my past—jail, drugs, comin’ back, messed up in one place, messed up in another . . . for some reason, I can pull it off and get the title. Boxing has saved my life, in general. Plus, I got a beautiful family right now. I got a lot of things to be thankful for. Forget yesterday because it’s gone, I don’t think of tomorrow because it never comes. I’m living it day by day and I’m doing good.

CC: Let’s talk about your fight with Paulie Ayala. The odds in Vegas are 8 to 5 in your favor. What’s your fight plan?

JT: I’m gonna be smart. The last fight . . . I don’t want to make excuses because the better man won . . . everybody knows what happened anyway. But after . . . 31 years, I found who killed my mother. I found out right there and then, and I took all that into the ring with me. But there are no excuses. I did what I had to do and I still think I pulled off the fight. You can’t beat a champion just like that.  

CC: Was your loss with Ayala your worst ring experience?

JT: No. It made me a bigger, stronger person. No matter how many times you fall, you can still pick yourself up and be successful. I was off for six months after that. What I did was go back to the drawing  board. I said to myself, “What am I gonna do? Stay in a room and cry?” I got back in the ring, and fought a tough fight at 118. That was with Jorge Eliecer Julio, the hardest hitter at 118. And I beat him back in my state, my hometown. Took the title again. So it’s not how many times you fight, it’s who picks himself up and is successful.

CC: If Ayala wasn’t your worst ring experience, what was?

JT: I’ve never lost. I’ve been through a lot of frictions in life. Losing and getting  back. But in the ring, I’ve never lost.

CC: But even if you’ve never really lost, there has to be a fight that sticks. Isn’t there one fight that leaves a bad taste in your mouth?

JT: It all depends . . . Ayala was my first lost. I’ve had two draws, too. But . . . if you ask me how I’d expect to lose? In the right way. I’m a man to say you beat me—may the best man win. But beat me. No if’s, and’s or but’s about it. Beat me.

Because to basically beat me, you got to beat the heck out of me. Because I’m still gonna be there.

CC: In other words, make sure you ain’t getting up, huh?

JT: Put me in the stretcher where it’s comfortable, don’t put me on my back where I’m gonna have to get back up. Because I will get up.

CC: So, if you beat Ayala . . . what else do you have to prove in boxing?

JT: You know what? I don’t even have to beat Ayala to prove anything. Where I’m at today, it’s comfortable. And it’s a beautiful thing. I’ve already beat all odds. I was just hoping and praying to be one world champion. This is going to be my 5^th. I don’t got nothing to prove no more. Everybody knows I’m already a warrior. But this time, I want to show my talent.

CC: Some say that you moving up in weight means you’re priming for a fight with the Prince. What’s up with that?

JT: Well, he called me out before. Offered me 1.5 million. But . . he wanted—I don’t know if I’m supposed to say this or not—he wanted to promote the fight. And he was thinking I was an opponent; like he was gonna hit me and I was gonna fall down. That’s not gonna happen. What he offered me, I’m already making on my next fight. So, what is there to prove? If he would give me what we both deserve, we’ll go with HBO one time like he wants, because I’m directly with Showtime.

I do good, I’m making a living. I’m not poor and I’m not rich, I’m okay. If they would put everything on the cards right and not treat me like an opponent, it’ll happen. Because I’ll never be used as an opponent. If that happens, I’ll quit.

CC: How’d they treat you like an opponent? You mean, without any respect?

JT: They think they’ll hit me and I’ll fall, no? Oh no, that’s not gonna happen. And they have to give me more than two weeks’ notice to fight him. I want to prepare myself mentally and physically.

CC: So maybe, say, next year . . . ?

JT: Oh, it could happen sooner than we think. But basically I’m not even thinking of him because Paulie Ayala is on my mind right now. But after I move up, it’s a whole complete different ballgame. Set me up for life, y’know, although with the investments my wife’s made now, I’m okay.

CC: Who else would you like to fight?

JT: It’s not who I want to fight. It’s that everybody wants to fight me. Because whoever beats me gets himself a name. Mark Johnson, Erik Morales, Marco Antonio Barrera, Naseem Hamed, Paulie Ayala. . . I got 51 professional fights. I got 170 total.

The Prince is calling me out when I’m two divisions below, at 118. When I was at 115, everyone at 122 was calling me out. I’ve never ducked nobody. I just put up or shut up. So I don’t have to worry about wanting any opponents. They want me.

CC: But is there anybody you want to fight?

JT: I’ve already succeeded in life. That was my biggest fight of all. When I fight a person, it’s no problem. So . . . at your question is . .. there’s Naseem yes. Everybody’s going up to fight Naseem. And there’s all the champions at 122 and 126 we’re gonna be facing sooner or later. Like I say, I only have one loss and we have this big fight right now with Paulie Ayala.

I’m at a bigger weight and I’m older now—33, with 51 pro fights. I don’t have too much left in this ballgame. I have to make my money and run. I want to be one of the fighters to have something to show. Because a lot of these fighters make a lot of money, they make a million, spend a million in 15 minutes. I want to be one of the ones who save it and have it . . . Or gimme social security. One or the other, no?

CC: When will you know it’s time to retire?

JT: Wen I get a good ass kicking. When I get my ass kicked. Then I’ll say to my wife, “You know what, babe? That should never happened.”

I don’t want to be one of the fighters who quit and then try to make a comeback five years later. Everybody’s coming out of the woodwork for a comeback. But I want to be one of the ones who say it’s over, said and done. Boxing’s been beautiful to me. I’ve done everything in boxing, I’ve broken records. I was the first one in the State of New Mexico to ever become a world champion. I got nothing left to prove. I was rated #1 in the world for 47 fights. Who else can say that?

CC: What are you gonna do when you retire? Or is that too far away right now to think about?

JT: It’s not. Because you basically don’t know. They want to do a life story that will pay me pretty good. But what I want to do after boxing is, I want to enjoy my family. My wife’s in the business of boxing now. She’s promoting like managing 4-5 fighters.

CC: When you do retire, how do you want people to remember you? Boxer or person?

JT: I don’t even want to be called one of the best fighters. I just want to be called a person that respected everyone. That’s good for me.

CC: If you could go back in time and fight anyone in the history of boxing, who would it be?

JT: Go back in time? Mike Tyson. No . . I don’t know. I done everything I could. I gave everybody hell, they gave me hell too. Y’know what’s hard about these questions you’re asking me is that if somebody beat me bad I’d say I want to beat them, I’d want to fight them again. But for me not losing since 1988 it’s hard to say because everybody’s given me a good clock. Even if they’ve been stopped, they’ve all hit me hard. So it’s hard to say.

CC: One last question: What do you want people to know about you that they don’t know?

JT: A lot of people read the bad. And they don’t see the good. If you put the bad with the good I’ve done a lot. I’ve done a lot. I’ve put the State of New Mexico on the map. I’ve kept us there in the boxing game for many years. And also coming out with 4 world titles, expecting to not even get one, my life has been up and down . . . but I’ve done a lot of good. Done a lot of positive things these last six years.

And even more important . . . You know what was my most important thing? It was powerful . . . It was how I was able to get 386 weapons off the street within a couple hours.

[Note: Johnny is referring to the Guns for Tickets program for his last fight in Las Cruces. Anyone turning in a gun was given a free ticket to the Johnny Tapia fight.]

That was a beautiful thing. Did you see the picture? Did you read the plaque? See what it says . . . .

[Note: I’m handed the plaque. It reads: ‘Awarded to Johnny Tapia’ . . . Underneath a color photo of hundreds of guns reads the inventory: 386 guns, 3000 rounds of ammo, 1 blasting cap, 1 gas grenade, 6 rounds of black powder.]

That was some powerful shit. Powerful shit. Just for a ticket to see me fight. How much people can do that? I had an officer tell me—I’m not gonna mention his name—he said you’d be lucky if you get one gun off the street. I don’t want to mention his name or nothing but he knows who he is. I got the last laugh.

Whaddya say about that?

CC: That’s a powerful shot . . . a lot of guns . . .

JT: Is that an awesome shot or what? That’s something I want to take to the grave with me, you know? And then I come back over here and and I get shot at! Ha . . . see these here (he points to 8 guns in the photo), they were never even used. They were brand new. That’s some scary shit.

CC: With all the shit that you’ve been through . . . mi vida loca, and all that . . . what message do you have for people who are going through rough times?

JT: You know what? The advice that I’d really love to give is that I still have problems every day. But keeping faith in God and listening to your mother and your father and having good people next to you is a beautiful thing. Because it makes you struggle and fight to keep your dream alive. Drug addiction is strong; and kids are trying it now. And with me being an alcoholic, it’s the same thing, brother. I don’t want to be a hypocrite because I have problems of my own today. But I fight through it. Day by day. Don’t think of tomorrow because it never comes. Yesterday’s gone. Live for today. Things will get better.

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