Two-weight champion had legendary fight with Jose Luis Castillo
Friday 8 May 2020 07:09, UK
Diego 'Chico' Corrales was a 'modern gladiator' whose eventful life, inside and outside the ring, was tragically cut short, writes Sky Sports Boxing's Adam Smith.
May 7 is the one day of the year when I literally stop - and remember. It is the date of a triple emotional charge for me, and those nearest and dearest to me know what it means.
Firstly, it was the birthday of my childhood friend Steve 'Dogger' Donnelly, who tragically died in a fire when he was 23.
Secondly, it was the night of surely the greatest fight of the last couple of decades when Diego 'Chico' Corrales came back from the brink to topple Jose Luis Castillo in 2005.
Thirdly, in 2007 - exactly two years to the day after that fight with Castillo - Diego lost his life in a horrific motorcycle crash.
I grew up with Dogger. I grew to love Diego. The American did a lot of bad things in his life but he did a lot of good things too. There was a special bond between us and I'm not sure I will have quite the same one with any other fighter.
Boxers, you see, are a breed of their own. Colourful and engaging personalities rise and fall, while the boundaries between life and death are brought frighteningly close.
There is something curious, something unique, about fighters. It takes a certain person, and a certain type of make-up. Armed with bucket-loads of courage, they are supremely dedicated, disciplined, rounded individuals who know they must be in phenomenal shape, not only to cope with the predicaments presented within that strange squared circle, but also to handle the different pressures outside the ring.
Boxers are the pure products. Only they know why and how they can engage in the harshest, most competitive, and riskiest game of all. These sportsmen are like no others. They are gentle, yet vicious; intelligent, but stupid; they are resounding characters who simply thrill and amaze us.
They plan for months to dissect their opposition, and yet the first thing they do when the final bell tolls is hug and embrace them. They may start as enemies, but often end as friends forever. They also crave promotion and attention and therefore we in the media get better access to their lives than in any other sport.
As a broadcaster, I have to remain totally unbiased, but it has been impossible not to become hugely emotionally involved.
From Lewis to Holyfield, Jones to De La Hoya, Tyson to Bowe, Calzaghe to Froch, Haye to Joshua, Mayweather to Pacquiao, or more recently Anthony Joshua to Tyson Fury or Katie Taylor to Terri Harper, many of us on the Sky boxing team have spent many hours with these enthralling personalities.
The fighters we at Sky probably got closest to were Prince Naseem Hamed and Ricky Hatton. Sometimes it could feel too much - when Ricky threw us his keys to open his house and make a brew, or Naz would demand so much attention that you saw more of him and his life than your own family.
They are though compelling, fascinating folk and while always making sure we had professional distance so we could observe and criticise when necessary, one very much gets drawn in.
It happened to me with the most unlikely fighter. I just found myself extremely connected with Diego Corrales.
Tris Dixon, former editor of Boxing News, wrote: 'Very few Brits got close to Diego Corrales, one of the most exciting fighters of our generation, but Adam Smith did. One remembers them pacing up and down The Strip and 'Chico' opening up about things you would think he would not want to discuss on camera. He and Adam got on just as well when the mics were switched to 'off'.'
A bizarre partnership we might have looked, but Diego and I just clicked, on and off camera, during and after shoots. On one occasion, my cameraman David Caine (Cainey) and I were driving through the desert to the City of Sin. We called Diego and asked where we should head to. His reply: 'Where do you want me to come and meet you?' Such an absence of ego is rare in boxing; he was just a thoroughly lovely human being. When we arrived at Mandalay Bay, Diego and his wife were waiting in reception. They helped us with our bags, took us around Vegas, and looked after us like we were their own family.
I was approaching my sixth birthday when Diego was born to a Colombian father (who disappeared) and Mexican mother on August 25, 1977, in Columbia, South Carolina.
While I was growing up in a sheltered, safe and comfortable world in leafy North London, Diego was moving around the United States with his teenage mother Olga and from the age of three, he was growing up in the violent Oak Park ghetto in Sacramento where the Oak Park Bloods ruled the roost. The notorious gang had been formed during the crack epidemic era. By four, Diego's stepfather Ray Woods had taken him to the boxing gym - and as a young boy, he was constantly dodging trouble on the streets.
Diego was quickly living life on the edge.
Back in London, my only battle was trying to get into my primary school chess team.
Diego was quickly living life on the edge. Talkative and personable, he would lead a double life. Diego charmed his way through tricky situations, and found some balance by both throwing himself into athletics and American Football, while threatening aggression which saw him fit right into street gangs and violence.
Diego saw his best friend killed in a drive-by shooting. My best friend was just trying to get a set off me on the tennis court.
How Diego was going to teach me about life!
Trouble and scrapes with police were mixed regularly with his natural intelligence, and fighting instinct. Diego found some structure in the Sacramento Police Athletic League Boxing gym and also attained a degree in culinary arts. Diego was actually a phenomenal chef - and that would really help his nutrition throughout his boxing journey.
Diego had a superb amateur record of 115-17 before relocating to Las Vegas and he turned pro in 1996. Thirty-three blazing wins set Corrales on his way and got him plenty of attention.
He stopped Robert Garcia to capture the IBF super-featherweight title which he retained with excellent wins over John Brown, Derrick 'Smoke' Gainer, Justin Juuko, and Angel Manfredy.
This was the time that I began to really get to know him, in and around Vegas shows. I liked him from the off. He drew you in. He was a fabulous interviewee, really captivating - and he was always ducking and diving through many business ventures like real estate, hobbies such as skiing, golf and biking. Also, he always seemed to be cooing over another baby in his arms! I remember him having five children over the years, and he even helped deliver one at home. He just managed to turn his hand to anything.
I was actually attracted to the faults and flaws as much as the realms of ring talent and huge courage he displayed in boxing. There was just so much more about Diego. He talked about having a chat show with his new friend from England. He loved my stories of boxing adventures and the different background I had come from in London. He talked about coming over, seeing where I grew up, maybe even fighting at Wembley. He wanted it all.
Boxing was his ultimate calling, but he was hugely troubled behind the scenes. 'Chico' became laced with managerial problems, business issues, drink-driving convictions and worst of all, an argument with his first wife Maria which escalated into a violent dispute. A possible jail sentence was looming.
The biggest fight of his life was also approaching - a bitter grudge match with Floyd Mayweather, who had taunted him constantly about all of his personal problems.
Diego was battling weight as well, trying to keep his tall frame boiled down at super-featherweight - and he admitted to me that before the Mayweather fight, he was only eating a grapefruit a day.
Corrales was destroyed by Mayweather. In fact, he was schooled and taken apart. Remember, Diego was unbeaten and had never previously been floored. Well, Mayweather dropped him three times in the seventh and twice in the 10th. In true Corrales fashion though, he was furious that his corner ended the fight.
The reality was that his life was falling apart and he was still only 23. There was a temporary split with his dad over the Mayweather stoppage, and he was also fast aiming for a plea bargain to reduce jail time. Corrales decided to admit to the violent incident between him and his ex-wife, who was pregnant at the time.
Diego Corrales spent 14 months for domestic battery in prison in the Deuel Vocational Institution near Tracy in San Joaquin County. It was a time for him to contemplate life and he utilised his culinary and boxing skills to largely avoid trouble. His new girlfriend Michelle stood by him and she became his second wife. Diego told me much about his life 'inside' in our subsequent chats in Vegas, where I was welcomed into his home.
By now, Diego had endured two years out of the ring, and was keen to get going again with a new family and a new team. After four victories, he was halted by Joel Casamayor in six - again, he had been desperate to fight on but a terrible cut inside his mouth meant a second career defeat.
Corrales did exact revenge on Casamayor on points in March 2004, when he won the WBO super-featherweight title, and he then had a big win five months later, stopping the previously unbeaten Acelino Freitas in 10 more exciting rounds to become a two-weight king.
Diego Corrales was back - and on this day, May 7, 2005, he had his defining moment, as I have described in my other feature.
This was the first clash - for lightweight unification and supremacy - with the Mexican warrior Jose Luis Castillo.
It was one of the greatest fights of all time, and certainly one of the most amazing comebacks. After a nine-round all-action and crackling slugfest, Corrales was decked twice and virtually out in the craziest of 10ths - only to somehow rise to stop Castillo in the very same session. Rocky-like. Superhuman. Proof there were few more gutsy and courageous fighters anywhere and Diego Corrales had secured the boxing win of his life.
I spent much time with Diego in the two years that followed. Tragically, they were the only two years he had left.
Despite the triumph and success of the dramatic Castillo victory, something went out of him that night at Mandalay Bay.
I always got the sense it had left a toll - both physically and mentally. Diego's career started to break down. He never won another fight.
Corrales rather foolishly agreed to go through with the rematch against Castillo - even though the Mexican was three and a half pounds over - and was knocked out in four.
The rubber match never happened. We were in Vegas all week in June 2006, and when Castillo weighed almost five pounds over the lightweight limit, this time the fight was scrapped.
Then the tables were turned. Corrales was due to defend his lightweight title in the other 'trilogy' with Casamayor in 2006, but this time it was Diego who weighed in five pounds over! His belt went and another defeat followed.
Corrales returned at welterweight in April 2007, but lost a unanimous decision to Joshua Clottey.
A month later, he lost his life.
I cried buckets when I heard Diego had been killed in a motorcycle accident. 'Chico' did some bad things, but you know what? He was rebuilding, he had learned, and deep down, he had a heart of gold. His sixth child was on its way, and he had personally helped deliver his fifth. The man knew no fear. His family cherished him. So did I. I shed genuine tears for Corrales, who was gone at just 29.
I choose not to go deep into the details and conspiracy theories of what happened at daredevil speed on the Nevada highways. I dealt with it then as I do now. He lived his 29 years fast and to the full. He died recklessly, young, and remained fearless right to the end.
Despite all the previous bad blood and hype ahead of their match, Floyd Mayweather helped support the family in the aftermath of Corrales' death - and to this day, he still looks out for Michelle and the children. That's the warm side of Floyd which often goes unnoticed.
Floyd saw Diego the fighting man; I saw the boyish demeanour, the unpretentious, the kind, caring nature of the human.
Tris Dixon wrote: 'It was an unusual link, the TV man who was raised in the Hampstead Garden suburb of North London, educated privately, and the tattoo-laden wild man Corrales, but it worked. Diego fed off Smith's enthusiasm, thirst for knowledge and passion.'
It goes to show odd couples do work!
With his rollercoaster life, he obviously had his critics, but you know what, I don't really care what others say about him.
I knew Diego better than most. He was fun, outgoing, and passionate. A magical and enchanting guy who was very clever out of the ring, a brilliant and a true warrior in it who fought with his heart on his sleeve. His proud record stood at 45 fights, 40 wins, 33 knockouts, and five defeats.
It was so tragic what happened to him. A marvellous man. A modern gladiator who holds a place in my heart. I miss him to pieces.
Today, as ever, will be a day for memories, and I will share some more of those stories later with my three children.
May 7 will of course always though be a day for tears.
