(Part 2)
Today, we consider the overseas Filipino workers as nurses, construction workers, nannies, teachers, household workers. But the first generation of young Filipinos was also populated by surprisingly young men involved in the shockingly violent business of boxing, just barely removed from the bare-knuckle era in pre-Depression America. The journey to America today consists of little more than getting a visa and hopping on a plane. And the visa is even the harder to do. In the early 1900’s, though, it was much harder than that.
Getting to America in itself was a long, demanding voyage. Depending on the weather, it would be weeks at sea. For a first-timer, it would mean the interminable torture of seasickness, boredom, and limited food selections. Most important of all, they rarely served rice on these trips. You slept on metal bunks that made sounds every time you moved. The endless expanse of water also played tricks on your mind if you were a simple, land-locked farm boy. Once you landed on the West Coast, it meant you would spend days or weeks on a slow train to the opposite end of the country.
And when you wearily take your first tentative steps into the promised land, you run smack into the racism that is the knee-jerk reaction to the first wave of foreigners flooding into the US. Thousands upon thousands of Europeans enter from the opposite direction, grocery store owners, lawyers, teachers, bankers, all trying to escape their own domestic strife, and World War I. You’re also picked on for your brown skin and short stature. Not a good start in following your dreams.
Of course, Frank Churchill probably didn’t envision these challenges for his wards. He likely just foresaw their inevitable rise to the top of boxing. He also notes Filipino boxers were ambitious, and didn’t mind broken noses or cauliflower ears. Most of them couldn’t afford trunks or shoes. Many wanted to fight barefoot. They simply stormed Churchill’s thatch roofed Olympic Club on Wednesdays and begged for fights in the beginning. Churchill kept a stock of generic shorts and shoes just for them. Foresight was a difficult commodity to come by in the 1900’s. The best ones joined him in trips to the US.
Pete Sarmiento was a 5’3” pug from Floridablanca, Pampanga, considered by The Ring magazine as “the roughest and toughest” of his generation, which included world champion Pancho Villa, his stablemate and opponent. Sarmiento’s career was a checkerboard of 37 wins, 21 losses and 14 draws, and there is a reason for that.
He loathed training, absolutely hated it. He smiled for the camera with his blackened front teeth, and was even dwarfed in one photo by heavyweight champion Jack Dempsey, who was literally twice his size. But his raw talent was just that, raw. In 14 years, he was never truly prolific, which helped prolong his life, but left his career in fits and starts. Sarmiento retired in 1931, after two consecutive losses.
The most famous Filipino boxer of the era was Francisco Guilledo, a shoeshine boy from Iloilo, whom Churchill helped christen Pancho Villa. He stood only 5’1”, but was a whirlwind in the ring. Damon Runyon said he was “better than Dempsey” as a flyweight.
The flyweight Villa fought fiercely, indiscriminately, and often. In six years, he won 77 fights, lost only four, and drew four. He was never knocked out.
Consider that stat line for a moment. The year before he became Asia’s first world boxing champion, Villa fought 28 times, or more than twice a month. In the US, he was a sensation, fighting all comers. His two longest winning streaks were 18 and 15 bouts, respectively. He knocked out Jimmy Wilde for the world title. Wilde had 139 wins (that’s not a typo) and only three defeats. And Villa was a showman. In some accounts, he did backflips in the ring, and partied, hard.
Sadly, Villa was done in by a gum infection from an extracted wisdom tooth. Defying doctor’s orders, he fought and lost to Jimmy McLarnin, later fell ill, and died. He was only 23.
In the 1920’s, boxing took more than it gave.