By Dave Cacciatore: “You throw the left hook like your slamming the door!” This was the first of many lessons given to me by Frank Jimenez. The stocky Mexican American boxing coach was not shy about telling you what your problems were in the ring or sometimes in life. He was the definition of an honest man and an honest fighter. Like so many professionals not named Mayweather or Pacquiao, Frank held down a day job during his fighting career. He sparred in backyards with truck drivers on occasion. And he fought in places like Tallahassee, Florida, Lincoln, Nebraska, and St. Paul, Minnesota. His record was not glamorous and he never had a fight on HBO or Showtime. But that is not the sum of a fighter’s life, it is the class and dignity that he showed along the way.
After hanging up the gloves, Frank ran the Seminole boxing club in Tallahassee blocks away from the Florida State campus. The gym was a small warehouse behind a homeless shelter in the Frenchtown neighborhood. A bent and pulled on high chain link fence with a rickety gate secured the property. Crime was not uncommon on those streets around the gym and crack could be found in the time it would take to ask a passerby for a cigarette. However, once inside Frank’s gym there was a little oasis from the drugs and crimes that surrounded it or from the books and lectures that many FSU students left behind. Everyone felt safe in Frank’s gym. He taught future lawyers, scientists, and accountants the art of boxing along with professionals like world champion Nate Campbell.
Frank loved boxing and he would spend hours nurturing a young fighter’s skill. This was true whether the fighter was a light-fisted rich kid who had never been in a tussle before, a poor teenager from the streets of Frenchtown, or a professional preparing for a big fight. Frank was going to give them all the same lesson. He wanted fighters first and boxers second. He prided himself on teaching the old-school art of Mexican boxing. Aggressive and punishing style built on inside fighting and the left hook. But to be sure Frank was also an ardent believer of the jab and the need to move at times.
Like any good teacher, he practiced what he preached. Frank was known to spar with the fighters he was training. But he did so not with the sadistic zeal of a tyrant showing his physical superiority but rather with the care that a lion would show in pawing at his own cubs. Frank was a tough guy but he knew that he did not have to show it all the time. Though to be sure, no one that ever saw him throw a left hook wanted to be on the other end of it!
His kindness though did not end when he closed the door to the boxing gym at nights. Frank frequently opened up his home and allowed fighters to stay with him and his wife and children. He also would invite over the other patrons of the gym to watch pay-for-view boxing cards at his house. However, Frank was not to be disturbed while watching the action and he showed an intense interest as if he was working the corner of the fight.
Frank took many kids to their first boxing match, loading them up in a van with the rest of his family to drive to amateur cards around the state. He would give them advice as he wrapped their hands and calm their nerves as they waited. He could even inspire fighters in the corner with his caring but determined demeanor. I know this because Frank inspired me to victory in the ring.
We all know that boxing is more often than not a dirty and corrupt business. A racket filled to the brim with felons, shysters, and profiteers. Frank Jimenez my boxing coach was the exception to all of those things. He was a good and decent man who did his best to do the right thing for people and he brought some class to the sport. He wanted to win and be successful but most importantly he wanted to do it the right way. The sport of boxing lost another teacher and ambassador and we the living lost another good man. Rest in peace coach, you will not be forgotten!