The forgotten greats - Jose Napoles

Hi all, haven’t delved in to the old ‘forgotten greats’ file as of yet on this version of 606, but as it’s been a wee bit of a trademark of mine (and also because there’s still so many fighters I’d love to cover) I thought I’d give it a run out today.

Although it has lacked the same quantity of big names produced by the likes of Mexico and Puerto Rico (for obvious reasons, which we’ll soon get to), Cuba has still produced its fair share of all-time great fighters. But while the likes of Kid Gavilan, Nino Valdes and, most prominently, Kid Chocolate are all revered, one great champion they produced has often fallen under the radar – Jose Napoles.

Let’s get the obvious out of the way – Napoles is considered Mexican as much as he is Cuban, as after Castro banned professional boxing in Cuba in 1961, Napoles travelled to Mexico to rebuild his career, ended up fighting under the flag of both nations and became something of a sporting icon in his new, adopted homeland in the sixties and seventies. So his lack of recognition in Cuba is understandable, I suppose. But while he was revered in Mexico during his career, over the decades since his popularity has waned, and he is rarely as fondly remembered now as are the likes of Ruben Olivares and Carlos Zarate, with whom his career just about overlapped.

It’s a shame, as Napoles’ record stands comparison with just about any boxer produced by either country. I have to confess that my opinion towards Napoles has also been favourable from an early age, as my step Granddad (an ABA Welterweight champion and 1964 Olympian) often spoke about how good Napoles was; when I asked my step Granddad who the best fighter he ever fought in the amateurs was, he answered without any hesitation “Mantequilla.”

The nickname of ‘Mantequilla’ (meaning butter, as he was said to be as smooth as butter) fitted Napoles perfectly. He was, as Gilbert Odd wrote after observing him from ringside, a “thoughtful tactician, but also a venomous puncher.” But strangely enough, it could be that his measured approach to boxing is one of the reasons that his career is not as celebrated as the likes of the aforementioned Olivares and Zarate, or Julio Cesar Chavez, for that matter. Working behind a jab, circling the ring and picking out openings before utilising his short hooks and whipping uppercut, Napoles was not your ‘typical’ Mexican fighter. Some say that while his record is comparable, Juan Manuel Marquez will never be held in the same esteem as his more exciting compatriots such as Marco Antonio Barrera or Erik Morales, and I feel a similar case can be made for Napoles.

Most do realise that Napoles was a great Welterweight, one of the very best. However, what is sometimes forgotten is that he was, arguably, an even better Lightweight and / or Light-Welterweight. His closest followers maintain that Naples was at his best between 135 lb and 140 lb in the early to mid sixties, and the fact that he was beating quality opposition such as LC Morgan, Carlos Hernandez and Eddie Perkins in this period would seem to lend credence to that. Carlos Ortiz (who I also think was a true all-time great) refused to face him during his tenure as Lightweight champion, and 140 lb champions such as the aforementioned Hernandez and Eddie Perkins, both of whom Napoles beat in non-title matches, were also wise enough to not risk taking a title bout against Napoles.

Essentially then, Napoles was a natural Lightweight or Light-Welterweight who had simply been forced up to 147 lb by the time he won the Welterweight title from Curtis Cokes in 1969. In addition to this, he was already pushing thirty. However, this didn’t stop him from defending the title a total of thirteen times across two reigns, which were only separated after Billy Backus stopped him on cuts in 1970 – a loss which Napoles had avenged within six months. Other victims of Napoles during his title reign included the wonderful Emile Griffith and also Hedgemon Lewis, who at one time held the NYSAC version of the crown before Napoles unified), and there was not a single worthwhile contender that Napoles failed to accommodate. I do believe that in Britain, Napoles has struggled to garner the recognition due to him thanks to our own John H Stracey dethroning him in his final fight. A great performance by Stracey, but at the same time an unfair measuring stick for how good ‘Mantequilla’ (who by then was thirty-five) really was.

Likewise, the rout he suffered at the hands of Monzon in his bid for the Middleweight title in 1974 is often used as a way of dismissing Napoles as a ‘good, but not great’ fighter, but again this is unfair. Those who are guilty of this are usually not aware of how far down the weight scale Napoles began his career, and that, as previously explained, he was only operating anywhere above 140 lb due to being frozen out by the champions at lower weights.

Sorry to ramble on, lads, but if something’s worth doing, it’s worth overdoing I suppose. To summarise, a wonderful fighter who ducked nobody, would absolutely dominate the 140 lb or 147 lb scene today (in my opinion) and who deserves to revered as one of the very best Hispanic fighters of them all. Feel free to add anything if you’re interested, fellas. Cheers.

Great article chris, you make a good comparison about Marquez living the more exciting Barrera and Morales's shadow, which can rightly be applied to Napoles situation too, also that the Stracey fight was his last and at 35 years old, was way past his prime. For it still to be considered one of the best wins for a british boxer shows you how good he really was.

It's amazing to hear that your Grandad fought him, which would obviously be back in the day before headguards etc, so must have been a great experience, and would have been nice for him to follow and watch Napoles fight out his career at the highest level.

Keep em coming.

Cheers for the contribution, Galveston, glad you enjoyed the article. It was actually my step Granddad's fiftieth wedding anniversary last Sunday, and as ever after we'd had the big 'family and friends' meal, me and him got talking about boxing, which is what tagged my memory to write this article.

It is a wee bit odd to know that a family member (or close family acquiantance, whatever you want to call it) fought such a great fighter. He's always got ineresting stories and tales to tell about his days on the amateur circuit and the Olympic experience, I'm just jealous that it's not me with those stories to tell!

One of my all time favourites, and one of the greatest welters of the lot, for me.

Wonderful fighter, who eschewed the classic ' blocking ' technique, preferring instead to rely on subtle movement and wonderfully timed slipping and countering. Tough as old boots, too, ( though with fragile skin, ) and with a bit of a nasty streak when he felt like it. I read an account of a fella who shared a gym with Napoles and Mantequilla was never shy about reminding everybody who was boss.

During his latter career he had apparently begun his battle with the bottle, but he was still plenty good enough to compete against the best.

Wonderful fighter, and an excellent tribute from you, Chris.

I recall reading an article in the Ring many moons ago regarding a dream match up between Leonard (Sugar Ray) and Napoles stating that SRL would win by 8 round TKO (cuts) but Napoles would be level on points. He was that good.

I disagreed but having seen some of his fights, he was smooth as butter alright.

Thanks a lot for adding, Windy. Can't say I know much about Napoles' demeanour in the gym (although, like you, I have heard rumours of his fondness for the sauce) but I've seen enough of his bouts to say for certain that he was an utterly ruthless man in the boxing ring.

Some have said to me before that he was slow, plodding and flat-footed (isn't that same accusation often chucked at that fella who dominated the Heavyweight division for over a decade?) but when I watch Napoles, I see a fighter applying subtle pressure who did a lot of 'cute' work which probably went unnoticed. A real quality technician with no real weaknesses, aside from the tendancy to cut that you mentioned, with cost him his Welterweight title against Backus - but only very temporarily, mind you.

Thanks for contributing.

88Chris05 wrote:Some have said to me before that he was slow, plodding and flat-footed (isn't that same accusation often chucked at that fella who dominated the Heavyweight division for over a decade?) but when I watch Napoles, I see a fighter applying subtle pressure who did a lot of 'cute' work which probably went unnoticed. A real quality technician with no real weaknesses, aside from the tendancy to cut that you mentioned, with cost him his Welterweight title against Backus - but only very temporarily, mind you.

Thanks for contributing.

You're welcome, mate.

Your point, above, is what I was alluding to when I mentioned his subtle movement. Napoles, like Toney, if you will, ( or Jack Johnson, for that matter, ) didn't rely on fleeting movement of foot, preferring to box at mid range or ' in the pocket, ' utilizing wonderful shimmies, feints, etc., while staying in range to deliver his own shots.

Fascinating to watch, a nailed on top ten welter of all time, for my money, and a man who would have given just about any welter in history a very difficult night's work.

At welterweight in the 1970s, Jose Napoles was one fighter everyone would want to avoid. He was the Monzon or Foster of the division, brushing aside everything in his path. The only loss in his prime was on cuts to Backus, which as you said he avenged. He was more Cuban than Mexican in boxing style, rarely dragged into a brawl. A slick ring tactician, but also powerful puncher. Shame he did have a problem with cuts, could have been even greater.

By his last couple of fights he'd been competing for 16 years and didn't really have it in him anymore. Heard reports he was just turning up to fights without even training. Eventually he did quit the booze and is a teetotaler these days.