Oh what a night, it really was such a night, a historical making night. It was the night of May 25, 2001 and five-time world kickboxing champion, Cliff ‘Magic’ Thomas was back home in El Paso, Texas to take on a dangerous foe, Jolting Joe Garduno. Garduno was an excellent boxer and kickboxer who had steadfastly worked his way through the top-ten light-welterweight contenders to get a shot at the fortyish champ. And he was chomping at the bit because he felt his time to hold a title had come.
What he didn’t know and neither did anyone else at the time was that this fight would produce probably the rarest set of circumstances ever imaginable that resulted in two knockouts instead of just one. Why it is not in the ‘Believe It Or Not” files is another issue. But enough tarrying around, let me take you to the heart of the matter.
It was another blistering hot day in El Paso and thousands of kickboxing fans looked forward to relief from the heat by attending the El Paso Civic Center early on for the preliminary fights before the Thomas vs. Garduno main event and cool down before the expected fireworks by the ‘Magic Man.’ Those aspirations were good in theory but not in actuality. Anyone who had ever witnessed Thomas’ fights in the ‘Magic Palace’ knew far from fight time that the heat was on in more ways than one. If one needed a cool down, they had better find a swimming pool or take a long cold shower. The civic center was going to be a steaming hot cauldron which was SOP when Thomas fought.
How hot was the place? As the preliminaries winded down and the thousands of rabid ‘Magic’ fans got into their high decibel shrieks, screeches and animated body contortions, it was fever-pitched. And it became frenzied as the clock ticked closer to fight time. The screaming fans represented well the cultural diversity of El Paso. Many of them were heating the place up with more than their high-pitched vocals and physical contortions. Hundreds of Mexican and Anglo babes in mini-skirts and other revealing attire were so, so hot in horny men’s eyes and likewise, many of the hot babes gave some come hither glimpses to hundreds of the cool dudes, many of them in muscles shirts and tight levi’s with some showing their upper endowed homo sapien chests full bare. And then too, there were elements of the oversexed.
Men with a hefty amount of testosterone and a flair for excessive sex are often referred to by psychiatrists as being afflicted with satyriasis. What? Yeah, it means having an uncontrollable sexual desire. I have no idea what percentage of men have this so-called problem but I know I would have liked to have had a small portion of the problem from time-to-time, especially in old age. Never happened. Anyway, it seemed like the strange phenomenon might be catching in the civic center that eventful, hot night. There were so many dudes latching on to babes and doing the ‘Grind’ and ‘Rump Bump’ to some heavy metal rock music from the center’s speakers and creating even more heat in the venue. And the babes were cooperating as far as I could tell. But the best heat was just about to come; it was near time for the main event.
Enter Paul Strelzin, the stellar and decades famous ring announcer of most of Cliff’s fights, the voice of UTEP sports for decades, former principal of Bowie High School and best radio talk show host for years. Tall and graying, dapper dressed in an expensive suit, the former New Yorker swept into the ring with his microphone and the crowd went nuts before he said a word. Still, the Strelz let his booming vocal chords loose and was hell bent to get his decibels above the continuous and sometimes cacophony screeches of the fans. Somehow he managed to thank the sponsors and rev up the audience for the fighter introductions. First out was Garduno and he received a light round of applause and a few scattered boo’s. That too was SOP for any fighter challenging Cliff in the ‘Magic Palace.’
And then it was time for the grand entry by the champ and his entourage. As they swept out of the dressing room and entered the hall, the whoops and fireworks went off simultaneously and the place was deafening. Even the Strelz with his mike couldn’t bellow above the crowd and their earthshaking greeting for the champ. With Ishmael Robles, the USA welterweight kickboxing champion and Cliff’s kickboxing coach leading the way, the entourage struggled to get through the boisterous and bunched fans and into the squared circle. Shortly thereafter succeeding, Cliff bounded into the ring and the whole place went electric. The noise drowned out the mighty Strelz once again and he had to take a break until Cliff did his warm-up preparation, gave the close crowd their just due with handshakes and the further back with body and arm gestures and somehow the crowd mellowed just enough for Strelzin to make his introductions.
Both fighters took their bows and then were called to the center of the ring for the referee’s instructions. Cliff was looking around nonchalantly and seemingly aloof. And that was when all hell broke out, all hell for Ishmael Robles. Immediately after the instructions and the handshaking ritual of the two combatants, Cliff backed up towards his corner (a smart thing to do) with Robles staring directly in his face and evidently a little upset with Cliff’s lack of focus. For whatever reason, he suddenly struck Cliff with a vicious right open-palm hand to Cliff’s jaw. Instinctively, Cliff retaliated with a stunning right hook right on the cheek that staggered him and knocked him off balance. Being a great instinctive fighter himself, Robles answered with a crushing right hand to Cliff’s jaw. And he paid dearly for that mistake; quicker than the blink of an eye, Cliff lashed back with a bodacious straight left to Robles’ jaw that was so powerful it lifted the man’s feet from the canvass for a split-second, causing him to lurch backwards three steps with his toes barely touching the canvass and then down he went on the apron, near unconscious. The crowd was stunned, the referee was stunned, I was stunned and the Garduno crowd had to be stunned. It was as terrifying as it was mesmerizing. Everyone except Cliff was in some kind of a daze. And there was more agony for Robles.
One of Cliff’s seconds entered the ring and rushed to the aid of Robles. He was having none of it. Slowly regaining his composure from the telling blow, he pushed the second aside and wobbly made his way to his feet. However, as he took a couple of steps forward he still was groggy and stumbled backwards falling to the apron again. Then two seconds came to his aid and he accepted their services as they escorted him to just outside the ring where he could still serve as Cliff’s coach. But what was going on with Cliff? And Garduno?
Cliff was visibly upset with the pre-fight fiasco but needed to get on with the business at hand. However, there wasn’t a single coach in the ring and Cliff still had to disrobe. Realizing that he was on his own, he somehow managed to peel down the robe and peel and shake the cuffs until they finally slid off of the gloves. And he had that look, that ferocious, nasty look in his eyes and damn, if looks could kill, he had them.
Garduno and his corner must have thought the whole thing was surreal. Perhaps they even imagined the strange affair to have been staged. No matter, it was evident for all to see that Garduno was very uptight as he attempted to loosen up with some shadow boxing. And that wasn’t a good omen for the challenger.
The ref checked with the officials, the corners, and all was ready for what might be considered Cliff’s second fight of the night. He had the fighters do their customary bows, struck down his arm and the bell signaled the beginning of part two of this most unusual night of fighting. Right after the clang Cliff went right after his adversary’s body. And he did it with little resistance from the challenger who was as expected somewhat up tight. Cliff just pressured him backwards and thumped his body with hooks and his head with jabs, straight lefts and uppercuts. Round one got the crowd back into their festive and rowdy ways and they chanted loudly at the end of the round, “Magic! Magic! Magic!
Round two saw Cliff begin where he left off in round one, banging Garduno’s body and going upstairs now and then to deliver some solid hand combinations. Cliff also was humming home some thundering side and round kicks that just befuddled the challenger. And they hurt as evidenced by the Garduno’s grimacing as the gloves and feet thudded into his flesh. Given all that, Garduno did loosen up a little late in the round and caught Cliff with some powerful and accurate one-two’s right where Robles’ had smacked Cliff earlier.
Round three was mostly a repeat of round two but with the Garduno’s face and body now showing the effects of Cliff’s devastating attack. His face was reddened, his bloody mouth was making gurgling sounds from the hammering body shots he was taking from the champ and he was in a bad way. It was just a matter of time before he succumbed to Cliff’s arsenal of weapons.
As the bell sounded for round four, Cliff was surprised by how fresh Garduno came out for the round. His corner must have done a remarkable job or he just decided to fight like the great fighter he was. He met Cliff dead center ring and exchanged telling blows with the champ. Cliff took a few good shots to the head and delivered a few of his own. But as one of the greatest and smartest kickboxers of all time, he knew that it wasn’t wise to let a damned good and hungry fighter hang around too long. He knew from other champion fighters experience and even his own that one could put himself in peril by not laying the axe down at the right time. And so he went back to Garduno’s body and chopped away for a few seconds before dispatching the challenger with a powerful, crisp and lightning left hook to his right rib cage that was so utterly devastating as to cause the challenger to go catatonic for a second or two, stumble backwards two steps and collapse to the canvass and counted out. And there it was. The hot and heated crowd saw it, I saw it and the television viewers saw it: Cliff Thomas had just done what most likely has never been done in the history of boxing or kickboxing; he knocked out his coach in the same ring as he would knock out his opponent.
And it wasn’t surreal. A still groggy Robles came into the ring to congratulate the champ. The hot fans had gone into another frenzied orgy of celebration, still sweating, still hugging and grinding and still enthralled with El Paso’s finest fight hero of all time. Even low-key Hilary Sandoval, Cliff’s long-time manager found time to be affectionate and reflect on the history-making moment. But the best summary of the fight would come from sweating ring announcer Paul Strelzin. He let fly with his famous incantation, “You can run from the ‘Magic Man’ but you can’t hide.”
Author’s note: Cliff ‘Magic’ Thomas was born with a hole in his heart the size of a silver dollar and after being operated on at age six, his parent’s were informed that he might live to age fourteen if he did no strenuous activity. All the ‘Magic Man’ did was win seven world kickboxing championships in five different weight divisions, in the heyday of kickboxing. He won his first world championship as a 20-1 underdog to undefeated champion Gordon Franks via a 3rd round knockout. He has been on NBC, ESPN, a few movies and in martial arts magazines and many hall-of-fames. This author wrote the book, “Magic! Magic! Magic!” about the great icon.
