Bruce Silverglade’s cell phone rang early yesterday. It was Juan LaPorte calling from Puerto Rico with sad news about their friend Hector Camacho. The former world champion boxer was being kept alive on life support after being shot in the face Tuesday while sitting in a car outside a liquor store in Bayamon, Puerto Rico.
Camacho’s family traveled to Puerto Rico yesterday facing a decision no one wants to make. The prognosis for recovery was not good, prompting fears Macho Time was drawing to an end.
“In his prime he was an aggressive, tough, tough fighter,” said Silverglade, the owner of Gleason’s Gym where Camacho and LaPorte cut their teeth as boxers. “He had all the moxie and the guts in the world. He also had moxie outside of the ring as well.”
The boxing public knew him as Macho Man. Born in Bayamon, Camacho was raised on the streets of Spanish Harlem, using his fast hands, quick feet and flashy persona to become a boxing star. He was a three-time winner of the Golden Gloves and went on to capture world titles as a super featherweight, lightweight and junior welterweight. He also fought as a middleweight, ending his career in 2010 with a record of 79-6-3.
He gained attention with a cocky, flamboyant personality that featured wardrobes as outrageous as his alter ego, the Macho Man. That’s the character boxing fans and the sporting public knew. It was in contrast to Hector, the private family man who could be quiet and shy.
“When you could see through all the bullcrap, he was a regular, quiet, nice guy,” said Tom Casino, a boxing photographer from Showtime. “When he was the Macho Man, he was the maniac. It wasn’t just shtick to him. He wanted to be the Macho Man.”
Trouble always seemed to follow the Macho Man, who lived life on the edge. He faced some of the toughest boxers of his era in the ring: Roberto Duran, Oscar De La Hoya, Sugar Ray Leonard, Felix Trinidad, Julio Cesar Chavez, Greg Haugen, Ray Mancini and Howard Davis, Jr. But his toughest struggles were with drugs and alcohol.
“He had his demons. It was no secret,” said Pat Burns, who trained Camacho for about 12 fights later in his career. “But he gave everything he had when he showed up at the gym. The guy had a heart of gold. He was extremely caring and attentive to his fans. If somebody wanted his autograph, he would stop and take the time. I saw him in a different light than most people saw him.”
Camacho launched his pro career at Madison Square Garden’s Felt Forum where, beginning in 1981, he fought his first 15 fights as a pro. His aggressiveness and talent made him a crowd favorite and his Macho Man persona was a promoter’s dream, though it masked inner insecurities.
“He just didn’t trust anybody,” Silverglade said. “He wouldn’t trust people and tried to negotiate contracts on his own. He made a lot of money, but he could have made more money with the proper people around him. He was his own man and he did what he wanted to do.”
Camacho’s friends and family are hoping for a holiday miracle, a gift of recovery that will give him another chance to just be Hector instead of a 50-year-old Macho Man.
“Whenever I needed him to talk to kids in a school or go to a hospital, he always made himself available,” Silverglade said. “In the gym, he was always signing and laughing and being a real level-headed guy. Unfortunately, outside the ring, there are other influences. But I’ll remember Hector as a real nice fellow.”