Editor’s note: Showtime will televise the two fights between Johnny Tapia and Paulie Ayala at 10 p.m. ET / PT tonight (Friday) as part of its Showtime Boxing Classics series.
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Johnny Tapia was the good natured wild man, famously living the vida loca. He was the star. Paulie Ayala was the blue-collar fighter, a quiet man who happened to be a talented boxer. Together they created fireworks in 1999 and again in 2000.
Ayala, who turns 50 on April 22, watches videos of those fights occasionally and the emotion floods back every time. “Especially in the first fight, when the announcer says ‘And the newwwwww …’” Ayala told Boxing Junkie. And he remembers the circumstances that led to the two encounters and the fights themselves – both of which took place in Las Vegas – as if they happened yesterday, not two decades ago.
Ayala had championship pedigree from his amateur days, when he contended for a place on the 1992 U.S. Olympic team and trained at the same Forth Worth, Texas gym as the Curry brothers (Donald and Bruce), Gene Hatcher, Troy Dorsey and Stevie Cruz.
However, going into the first Tapia fight, he was 30 years old and had failed in his only attempt to win a major world title. He had traveled in 1998 to Japan to challenge WBC bantamweight beltholder Joichiro Tatsuyoshi, a two-time champion. The two were engaged in a spirited, competitive brawl when an accidental head butt caused a deep cut over Tatsuyoshi’s right eye and the fight was stopped. Ayala lost a close technical decision.
That fight wasn’t televised in U.S., as Ayala recalls, which he believes might’ve played a role in the decision of the 32-year-old Tapia and his team to defend his WBA title against him.
“They didn’t see that fight,” Ayala said. “As far as they were concerned, I was good enough to be in the mix but didn’t have that extra oomph to win a title. Ring Magazine did a good article at the time. They interviewed everyone. Johnny gave [Top Rank] my name. [Matchmaker] Bruce Trampler gave him names of guys he thought would be easier but he decided to fight me. I’m thankful for that.”
Ayala was well aware of Tapia, whose abilities were obvious in spite of his mercurial, self-destructive life outside of ring. He wasn’t fazed, though, not with his vast amateur background and 28 pro fights under his belt. He was confident.
“I didn’t see anything I hadn’t seen before,” Ayala said.
That was evident before and during the fight, which took place on June 26, 1999 at Mandalay Bay Resort & Casino. Tapia and Ayala traded obligatory barbs in the lead up to the fight, each trying to gain a psychological edge. Ayala wanted to provoke Tapia, to make him angry so he’d engage in more of a war than a boxing match.
And he succeeded. As the fighters were being introduced, Tapia walked over to Ayala and gave him a shove, which set the tone for an intense encounter.
Tapia, a slick boxer and a better athlete than some might realize, boxed and moved in the early rounds but eventually began to stand and trade with Ayala. The give and take – hard shots to the body from both fighters, head-snapping combinations, a frenetic pace – had the crowd in a tizzy in what would ultimately be named The Ring Magazine Fight of the Year.
When it was over, Ayala had won a close, but unanimous decision and Tapia had his first loss.
“I dreamed of becoming a world champion since I was a little boy,” said Ayala, who also was named Fighter of the Year. “I grew up in a fight town, in Forth Worth. Six world champions in the 1980s trained simultaneously in the same gym. I used to spar with some of them. I had a lot of experience preparing myself.
“And back in the late ’80s, I used to watch Johnny on TV. I liked the way he fought. I thought he was a flashy, entertaining fighter. To have it come full circle, to face this guy for a world title and win, was great.”
Then came the rematch on Oct. 7, 2000 at the MGM Grand.
Of course, Tapia wanted a chance to regain his title. And Ayala was more than happy to oblige him. He knew his victory was no fluke but he wanted to prove that to doubters. He also knew that the rematch would earn him a career-high purse, reportedly $400,000.
The fighters agreed to a catch weight of 124 pounds, a nod to Tapia, who was battling weight issues. If he was more comfortable in the rematch, however, it didn’t show. The fight was competitive and entertaining once again, and the scores were close, but Ayala felt he handled his rival more easily than he had in their first meeting.
“He got me with some single shots at first but I was able to pick him apart a little easier than the first fight,” he said.
Ayala (35-3, 12 KOs) would successfully defend his title three times and then go on to beat Bones Adams in two memorable junior featherweight fights in 2001 and 2002, both of which went the distance. He lost to the great Mexicans Erik Morales and Marco Antonio Barrera in 2002 and 2004 and then called it quits.
He lives with his wife in Fort Worth as an empty nester but might be busier now than he was when he was fighting. He owns and runs a gym, where many of his clients use a boxing regimen to battle Parkinson’s disease. He doesn’t have many regrets.
“I wish I’d done a little more trash talking,” he said with a laugh. “Maybe I would’ve made a little more money.”
Tapia (59-5-2, 30 KOs)? He would continue to fight with some success for another decade, into his 40s. And then he was gone. The man who survived multiple suicide attempts and drug overdoses was found dead at his home in Albuquerque on May 27, 2012 at 45. Official cause of death: Heart disease.
The three-division titleholder, who was inducted posthumously into the International Boxing Hall of Fame in 2017, was the type of character who will never be forgotten. The same might be said of his two-fight series with Ayala, at least for hardcore fans. They were classics.
