Bamboozled (14 page)

When Top Rank gave Joey 200 tickets to his fight he claims he passed them out to “every gangster and thug I saw” on 52
^nd
and Hoover; his old stomping grounds.

Bruce Trampler completed a master picture script of Joey's life story, which, presumably was Joey's idea and also at his urging. Ray “Boom Boom” Mancini, a former fighter turned Hollywood producer wanted to make the film. He had been reached through Top Rank's numerous connections. So instead of training for the fight, Joey had a meeting with Avenue Productions about shooting the film.

Allegedly, they couldn't agree if Mario Lopez, Mark Wahlberg, or Jon Seda would be sought after first to play Joey. Eventually they concluded, “Let's wait and see what the outcome is [of the comeback fight], Joey's appeal, etc.” Joey thought, “If you only knew that I am taping this meeting and working for the Feds on
Operation Matchbook
to secure my freedom. What a story it is now!”

In Joey's hotel room immediately before the fight, Trampler and Sean came into the room; asking Joey how he felt. On the recorded conversation Joey expresses concern about the State Atheletic Commission's test finding his Hep C and disqualifying him from the fight. His Hepatitis is public record in his prison file and has already turned his olive skin to a pale shade of yellow. In Joey's worry he says, “No one is going to let me take this fight.” But Gibbons remains calm.

“Don't worry, don't worry,” he says. “I'll take the tests for you. Anyway, it's all taken care of. You can't lose.”

Joey claims that Trampler produced several blood tests, whiting out names, saying “I have a couple commissioners on the payroll and don't worry about the eye test. I'll take the urine test!”

Joey claims that he was called down to room 430, a hotel suite with the furniture tossed aside. He claims Sean was in there with Perry Williams, whom Bruce Trampler had picked to be Joey's opponent. Williams had been knocked out in the
first round of his only previous fight. Joey and the FBI claim Sean had them choreograph the fight in that room, planning each punch and when Williams would go down for the count. Joey claims they practiced it over and over.

Later, Trampler would tell California boxing officials. “I used Williams only because I hoped he would be bad enough for Torres to defeat.”

They headed back to the arena for his weigh-in and testing. Joey stripped down, and it was supposed to be the California State Commissioner who checked his fighting weight, but he alleges Sean put him down at 199 lbs. Joey claims that Sean passed an envelope to an old man in a commissioner's suit, and his eye test was passed. Joey also alleges that Sean took the blood and urine test for him.

In the dressing room, while Joey's hands were being taped, numerous celebrities appeared to shake his hand. Top Rank's promotions had created an unbelievable amount of hype that stroked Joey's ego.

The announcer began, “After these messages, the remarkable story of Joey Torres.” Joey put on his trunks— minutes away from his first professional fight. On the night of April 27, 2002, at 42 years old, Joey finally got the chance he'd dreamed of all those years in prison. Davis and Molitor walked in with Trampler as the live K-Cal 9 TV crew followed him through the tunnel.

Top Rank sells a heart-wrenching version of Joey-approved events: A promising young boxer fell prey to gangs and drugs, was arrested for a murder he didn't commit, plea bargained for five years in juvie to avoid a life sentence, and just days before his release, a judge sent him to a state pen for 25-to-life. From there, this underdog helped kids on drugs and uncovered an obscure law that got him out after 23 years. Next we are treated to Carlos Palomino, who confirms Joey's talent, and Eric Davis, who testifies to his good heart. It's a solid and convincing tale.

Joey walked out of his dressing room and through the velvet curtain wearing a robe embroidered with the words, “Thug Life.” The arena was packed with 5,000 fans, but they reportedly laughed when he disrobed to display his 5'6” frame at 230 pounds. The media began speculating that Top Rank's hype about Joey's gym dedication was just that.

The music began with, “Baby, I'm a Thug,” and people were grabbing at Joey and snapping photos. Eric and Molitor held the ropes open as he stepped in. The announcer repeated Joey's story as “the comeback kid.” Joey claims the announcer had tears running down his face but ESPN says it was Joey who was crying. As the announcer rang the bell twice, he finished, “After 22 years in prison, Joey Torres refused to accept [his judicial fate], studied law, and found a way out—always thinking of that one fight he always wanted! And tonight is the night!”

Joey's first punch missed badly but Williams' first right hand sent Torres down, face first onto the canvas. Joey says he only remembers the fans going crazy, Octavia crying, and the bell ringing as he is looking up from the canvas, with one glove under his ass as the referee countied in slow motion, “one…two….” Joey claims he looked at Arum, who was sitting in the front row saying, “Ohhhh, nooooooo,” and the arena went dead quiet. Joey stumbled up at nine, looked at the referees holding his gloves, sure he was going to stop the fight. Joey claims that Williams punch hurt more than anything he'd experience previously in life. Perhaps it was the lack of cocaine.

At 1:05 of the first round, a glancing blow to the left side sent Williams down, only to fall again after he gets up from a slow-motion hit to the same spot.

“You have to wonder if Williams wants to fight at all,” the announcer ponders out loud as the bell rings.

Joey wasn't acting like a pro fighter and was missing the choreography he'd supposedly been trained on. Despite this, Joey was called to the middle of the ring and managed to hold his opponent for the next full two minutes of the first round. Instead of going after the crippled Torrey, Williams put his gloves in front of his face and barely threw another punch that round. As bad as Williams looked, Joey looked worse.

Joey was sent out again in the second round. Thirty-nine seconds in, after a series of lunging punches, Joey threw his left, his opponent falls and stays down. Everyone was booed for their bad acting jobs, as the throng of spectators chanted “Bullshit! Bullshit!”

In the post-match interview, when Joey is asked if Williams gave an honest effort, he leans toward the mic to say: “I hit him with good body shots. People don't know what a good
body shot can do … No matter what anyone says, I made it. I made it.”

But the crowd isn't buying it and in the resulting melee, 16 people who were furious about the seemingly fixed fight were arrested and Torres was hustled out of the arena while protesting that it was clean. The media called Joey both flaccid and overweight. Both fighters were suspended for their lack of ability.

Joey had an after party with his crew and some strangers. He drank his liquor but still hurt from that first round punch. He now feels he should never have been in the ring with Hep C, his vision, and after gaining eighty pounds since his last fight. Back in Vegas, Frankie notified Joey that Washington loved the fight.

“He wasn't really serious about [the fight],” said former U.S. Olympic world champion coach Kenny Adams, who helped Joey train. “Joey only trained four or five days at the most. The only reason I worked with him during that time is he said he may be in a movie and that I could work with him in the movie.”

Afterwards, Arum was still eager to help Joey (though he later referred to it as a “favor”), who became a fixture around Arum's Top Rank offices.

“I'm a believer in him,” Arum said at the time. “He comes out of prison with a burning desire to do things for others.”

Pamela Frohreich seethed at the “I-didn't-do-it” spin that Joey and Top Rank put on his murder rap, as she felt he expressed no remorse. She didn't care that Joey was working for the FBI, which she only learned about in a call from the Vegas U.S. attorney's office in late 2002. The FBI didn't seem to care anymore either, who reportedly told her through a federal prosecutor, “Keep us informed, but don't do Joey any favors on our account.”

On his birthday, May 4, 2002, Joey was tired and regretted getting involved in all this. He was alone, working for the FBI, fearing that his worst fears were coming true.

In July, Joey is in Gibbons' office when a boxer has dropped out of a match against
Billy Zumbrun, a heavyweight Top Rank is pushing up the ranks. “You want it?” Sean offers Joey. “Nah,” he replies. “I'm in worse shape than before.” So Gibbons offers it to one of his best losers, 34-year-old Brad Rone.

A gap-toothed, 259-pounder with 25 sequential defeats— Brad Rone lost to Zumbrun just three weeks prior. He's been barred from fighting in Nevada. Rone still accepts the $800 and the fight with under a week's notice. His mom dies that week but he still sticks with it. Joey and Sean are partying one night in Vegas when they hear that Rone literally had a heart attack and died in the ring.

Questions begin to surface about Rone, and Joey suspects that time is short for Top Rank.

Nine months since Joey first walked into an FBI office in San Diego, he has delivered on fixed fights and got Frankie inside Top Rank. While the FBI is grateful, they want him out of the picture now. In December Joey announces his intention to see Costa Rica and Schlumpf tells him, “Go. Stay as long as you want. We'll make sure you get your checks.”

Joey packed a bag for Costa Rica and stopped in Managua to visit Alexis Arguello at his gym. Joey gave him a hug and thanked him for his support. Having new stabbing liver pains, Joey increased his medication and bought a villa a block from the beach in Costa Rica. He thought surfing might start to heal his body from all of the drugs and Hepatitis.

On May 19, 2003, Joey flew back to LA to hear Frohreich argue against the vacated verdict. His tanned skin in an Armani suit sat in the back row of a hearing room at the
ornate Court of Appeals. Joey was sure that the situation was fixed and they were just going through the motions; that Joey would be pleading to time served, but his lawyer, Verna Wefald, was outgunned. Frohreich and two other prosecutors are hammering away, and the judge is listening: Didn't Torres appeal his sentence 20 years ago? Why should he get a second chance?

Joey shifts in his seat nervously. He sure didn't expect this. “You can never tell,” Wefald tries to reassure him when the hearing ends.

Wefald wrote a letter to the DA, and told Joey that she was trying to close a deal on him pleading to manslaughter and time served. She argued that Santana had made a deal and lied on the stand to put Joey away. Joey wanted to return to Jaco, where his only concern was working on his tan.

Joey jumps in a rental car and drives back to Vegas, where he finds Frankie at The Meridian pool. “You gotta help me, Frankie. I'm in real trouble here.” he says. Hoodwinking Joey as he did upper management at Top Rank, Frankie says, “I'll see what I can do.” Joey pleaded with Agent Schlumpf to call Senator McCain's office and tell them to back off Top Rank. The continued investigation was only going to take away the one thing he had left—matchmaking and ringsiding.

In Vegas, the FBI, Top Rank, and everyone else was on the warpath. Joey walked into Top Rank and was met by Sean at the door who walked him downstairs saying, “Senator McCain is calling for an uncut version of your fight. The world's media is saying it was fixed. Have you read the paper?”

Joey hadn't. They sat in Sean's car as he supposedly keyed some coke. Sean allegedly apologized for Williams knocking Joey down, that Top Rank hadn't “used” him before and it wouldn't again. Joey got a call from Trampler, who demanded, “Tell Sean to get upstairs now.”

Joey called his attorney who said, “I just had an interesting visit from a man who said that he is your cousin Frankie, from Brooklyn, and he wanted to know if there was anything he could do to help in your case.”

Joey went by their apartment and found Octavia talking on the phone. She hung up as Joey walked in, sarcastically announcing, “That was Ana. What a great wife you have.” She packed her things and that was the last Joey saw of her.

Four days later, Joey's worst fears were confirmed: “The trial court is directed to reinstate [the] defendant's first-degree guilty plea … and the sentence of 25 years to life.” Wefald tries to insist it's not over. She has discovered evidence that Santana, Joey's chief accuser, was also a suspect, which wasn't revealed at his trial. She convinces the court to allow her client to stay out on bail while she prepares his appeal, but everyone knows that the clock is ticking.

Knowing the FBI no longer wanted him to hang around Vegas, Joey switched it up and began working as muscle for Top Rank. Joey says he flew out to New York and was told to go into Cha Cha's Pizzeria, a mob joint he claimed Trampler had connections to, and begin infiltrating their operation. Joey carried an envelope with $5,000 in cash and a pistol. He says he always carried a gun because he didn't like how the FBI carried themselves and figured he'd eventually need it. A limo dropped off Joey in front of Cha Cha's, where he says he saw agents across the street. Joey sat in the back of the restaurant, waiting for Cha Cha and said the date and time into his recorder.

Cha Cha walked in and Joey says he told him about Furachi being squeezed and how Trampler had suggested they talk. Cha Cha counted the money and said,
“Grazie.
I will make some calls.” With that done, Joey returned back to the hotel, gave Schlumpf the recorder, and blew off some steam.

Joey met with the FBI prior to meeting with Trampler, who wanted to take him for a drive. Joey was fairly sure that this meant Trampler knew he was working for the FBI and it was all over, but they just went down to the Orleans Casino to see Trampler's friend Tony Danza, performing a one man show. Trampler asked Joey about New York but Joey says he seemed to know the whole story from Cha Cha already.