Michael Carbajal, who was always willing to fight anybody for as long as it took, is now in a fight he could never have imagined, few would ever believe and yet continues like a haunting nightmare.
It has been nearly two years since his brother, Danny, was sentenced to 54 months in prison for fraud and forgery after working as the trainer, manager and financial advisor for Michael, whose punches and blood earned more than $7 million in a Hall of Fame career as unique as any in a cruel business as old as Cain and Abel.
There was no healing on Feb. 21, 2008 when Danny was marched out of Maricopa County Superior Court in Phoenix and transported to the Arizona State Prison in Florence. There is no statute of limitations on betrayal. But at least it seemed as if it was over in a way that would allow Michael Carbajal to move on and repair a fractured life. It isn’t.
Michael now is fighting to save his mother, Mary, from an attempt by Danny to have her evicted from her Phoenix home, where she has lived for the last 15 years. Michael’s attorney, Ty Taber, said the home was purchased with money from the junior-flyweight’s purse in a 1990 victory for his first major championship, the International Boxing Federation’s title, which he took from Thailand’s Muangchai Kittikasem at old Veterans Memorial Coliseum in a Phoenix bout televised nationally by ABC.
“It’s unbelievable to me,’’ said Taber, a Phoenix attorney who was in the crowd for Carbajal’s dramatic seventh-round stoppage of Kittikasem two decades ago in a bout that was the first real sign of unprecedented stardom for one of boxing’s little guys. “Poor Michael. I mean, Danny thinks he has a big financial empire that he is manipulating from prison, where he sits, rotting away.
“I can’t believe he is doing this to his own mother.’’
In a letter dated Feb. 4, 2010 and addressed to Mary Carbajal, Danny’s attorney, Jonathan Dessaules, threatens eviction if she has not moved out by March 8. Other than to say that the letter spoke for itself, Dessaules, of Phoenix, had no comment.
“This is the lowest you can go,’’ said Michael, who called his oldest brother “a disgrace” after Phoenix reporter Paul Rubin broke the news in a chilling story, headlined Brother’s Keeper, for the Nov. 1, 2007 edition of the New Times.
Michael’s emotions ranged from angry to tearful as he sat on the steps in front of his Ninth Street Gym, once a church. Where the congregation once sat, there’s a ring. On a stage, there are heavy bags where the preacher once stood at the bully pulpit. Today, the only chorus is in the rhythms of a speed bag. But for Michael, it’s a place of faith, maybe more now than ever.
With help from friend and companion Laura Hall, Michael’s commitment to his mom, to what he knows and who he knows has been deepened by a personal trial, a breach of trust, brought on by a brother he never thought he would have to question.
“Yeah, he fooled you,’’ Michael said. “But he fooled me more than anybody.’’
The more that Michael looks around and reflects on his career, he sees reasons to believe that the trust once thought to be fundamental between brothers was always a fraud. For years, Danny said there was no legal contract between the two. There was no need, the brothers always said.
“We were family,’’ Michael said. “Danny always said it and I trusted that.’’
But Michael said he found an old document at the Court of Records a few days ago after he got news of the letter to his mom, now 78. It’s a managerial contract, said Michael, who said it was drawn up in October, 1988, or within weeks of his silver medal at the Seoul Olympics. He said it includes his signature.
“But I never signed my name to a contract with Danny,’’ Michael said. “I never saw that contract.’’
Trust in his brother was there, even during the first few years after Michael’s career ended in 1999. At his induction to the Boxing Hall of Fame at Canastota, N.Y., in June, 2005, Michael tearfully called Danny the world’s greatest trainer. By then, however, questions were beginning to emerge in the wake of the unsolved murder of Danny’s estranged wife Sally. Sally, who was in the crowd with Danny at the Seoul Olympics and at ringside for Michael’s pro career, was killed along with companion Gerry Best five years ago.
Danny was sentenced after pleading guilty to three felonies based on the theft — hundreds of thousand dollars was the reported estimate – from accounts and property held by Sally. Danny’s daughters, Josephine and Celia pleaded guilty to conspiring with their dad and against Sally, their mom. Neither was sentenced to jail.
In the threat to evict Mary Carbajal, now 78, from the home purchased for her after husband Manuel died in 1993, Michael is convinced he sees another damning stitch in a scheme, which was a word used by Judge Andrew Klein when he sentenced Danny.
“Greed and a pattern of wrongdoing spread out over three years,’’ Klein said.
In the Feb. 5 letter, it says that Mary Carbajal “admitted in sworn testimony” that Danny is the home’s owner of record. The letter also says: “You also do not pay any rent for your occupancy. Our client, therefore, has decided to terminate the occupancy…’’
In 2007, Michael filed legal documents, saying that he is the lawful owner of the home purchased for his mom, as well as other property in Phoenix. Mary Carbajal’s testimony is based on a lawsuit that she and Michael filed in another case involving life insurance. Danny is alleged to have bought policies, transferred them into his own name and then cashed them out.
“Your own mom, man,’’ Michael said. “How do you do something like this to a mom?’’
Michael looked off in the distance and then across Fillmore Street as if he was searching for an explanation. He saw an empty lot. A few weeds and no words.
The, a couple of grade-school girls, one on a bicycle, stopped in front of the gym. They looked at Michael smiled, looked up at the entrance and then back at Michael.
“Is it haunted in there?’’ one of the girls asked. “We hear there might be ghosts in there. Tell us, but don’t scare us.’’
Nah, he said.
“There are only good ghosts in there and they hang out in the basement,’’ said Michael, who then turned around and went inside, smiling and perhaps knowing that ghosts couldn’t haunt him the way a brother has.
NOTES, QUOTES
· One of the best in today’s generation of little guys, super-flyweight champ Nonito Donaire, faces a new opponent Saturday night at the Las Vegas Hilton in the featured bout on pay-per-view television. The original opponent had to suddenly withdraw a couple of days ago because of an eye problem. Instead of Gerson Guerrero, Donaire (22-1, 14 KOs) faces the unknown in Manuel Vargas (26-4-1, 11 KOs). Sometimes, the unknown is more dangerous than anything. “But it forces to you think, be spontaneous,’’ Donaire said Thursday in a conference call. “I’ll have to be aware and ready to make quick adjustments.’’
· Promoter Bob Arum mentioned that the Las Vegas Hilton was the site of Leon Spinks’ upset of Muhammad Ali in 1978. More fitting perhaps, it also was the Vegas hotel for Top Rank’s promotion of Carbajal’s signature fight, a seventh-round stoppage of Humberto Gonzalez in the first bout of their trilogy. Donaire is the star on a card featuring Filipino and Latin fighters in the lighter weight classes.
· More Donaire: He is a target for some trash talk from Vic Darchinyan, who is anxious for a rematch in an attempt to avenge his loss by knockout in 2007 to the likeable Filipino-American. “He’s like a little chihuahua, just barking and barking and barking,’’ said Donaire, who added that he soon will move up in weight to bantam, then feather. “For me, it is now or never for super-flyweight.’’