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It Was a Fight to the Finish : Goossens Begin With Little but End With Much Respect

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TIMES STAFF WRITER

For Gabriel Ruelas, it was just another day of selling candy door to door, just another San Fernando Valley street on which to ply his trade.

Little did he dream that when he knocked on the door of the house at the end of the North Hollywood cul-de-sac his life would change forever.

Although 12-year-old Ruelas knew this was the headquarters of the Ten Goose Boxing Club--his brother, Juan, had trained there once for a month--the house held a special fascination.

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From the outside, the single-story structure looked like the typical 1980s Valley home. On the inside, however, there was only one room, dominated by a ring. On the sides were punching bags, each of them undergoing a furious pounding. On the walls were yellowed posters from famous and not-so-famous fights.

The next time he knocked on that door, a few days later, Ruelas had left his candy at home.

“I want to be a fighter,” he told trainer Joe Goossen.

Goossen, trying to get a struggling operation started, had no time for kids with wild dreams.

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“Maybe some other time,” he told Ruelas.

Goossen might be excused for taking Ruelas lightly, but, really, he should have understood. After all, Goossen and his family also were chasing wild dreams then.

Ruelas, the No. 1 contender in the World Boxing Council’s junior lightweight division, eventually became part of the Goossen legacy, one that ended recently when financial constraints forced the family to close shop after 12 colorful years.

But at the time, the Ten Goose Boxing Club was that rarest of sports entities, a mom-and-pop operation that succeeded. Many of the 10 children of Al and Ann Goossen were actively involved in turning the fight game into a family business and developing such local talent as Gabriel Ruelas.

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None of them had overwhelming credentials when they began.

Al, who served as promoter, had spent much of his life in the Los Angeles Police Department. Dan, who was to serve as manager of the fighters, had sold office supplies. The closest he had been to the ring was when he had served as Mr. T’s manager.

No matter.

They built a ring under a tree in the front yard that had once served as the family Whiffle-ball field and eventually put four walls around it.

Brothers Joe and Larry would serve as trainers. Sisters Sandy and Ellorie, along with their mother, would work the ticket booth. Brothers Mike and Gordon, both lawyers, would represent the family’s legal interests.

And also helping in the corner would be brother Greg, the only family member to have had success in professional sports.

Unfortunately for Ten Goose, Greg’s success was in baseball. A catcher in the Dodger organization and later with several other teams, Goossen, had once played for legendary Manager Casey Stengel with the New York Mets. Stengel once introduced him by saying, “This is Goossen. He’s 19 years old and he’s got a good chance to be 29 in 10 years.”

Rival promoters didn’t figure Ten Goose would be in existence in 10 years.

But the Goossens, as enthusiastic as they were naive, ignored those who scoffed.

They formed Ten Goose in 1982 and got everything ready to go, except fighters.

Where to look?

They started in their neighborhood and found a guy at the car wash. He said his name was Nacho and he wanted to be a fighter.

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“We bought him trunks and hand wraps and everything,” Dan said. “We brought Sonny Shields (an established trainer) over. We got him some sparring partners.”

But then Nacho took a punch in the nose and decided he didn’t want to be a fighter. He took off, with his trunks and all the rest of the equipment.

Next, the Goossens signed a Rolls-Royce salesman. He had seven fights and went back to selling luxury cars.

But eventually, the Goossens found people who wouldn’t quit.

They managed both Gabriel Ruelas and his brother, Rafael, the International Boxing Federation lightweight champion.

They resurrected the career of bantamweight Frankie Duarte, whose boxing skills had been ravaged by drugs and alcohol. His comeback went all the way to a title shot against World Boxing Assn. champion Bernardo Pinango. Duarte lost a close decision, but had regained control of his life.

The Goossens took Michael Nunn from Olympic alternate to the International Boxing Federation middleweight title before he left in a contract dispute.

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They were promoters for former WBC super-welterweight champion Terry Norris.

They trained, managed and promoted dozens of other fighters.

And, for a decade, they staged fights at the Reseda Country Club. Once a month, the 1,000-seat Country Club would be packed with film stars and young businessmen and women, wildly cheering for their favorite fighters in a nightclub atmosphere where the blood and sweat flowed with the beer and wine.

After the death of Al Goossen in 1985, veteran character actor Victor French became a key figure in Ten Goose, lending money and emotional support.

French and fellow actor Gene Hackman became part of the traveling entourage when Ten Goose boxers fought out of town.

But, in the end, the lack of television money and other financial resources hurt Ten Goose. Now, Dan is going to work for Bob Arum’s Top Rank boxing organization, promoting bimonthly fights at the renovated Olympic Auditorium and elsewhere. The regular monthly fights at the Country Club were discontinued last year.

In its day, though, Ten Goose produced some unforgettable moments.

There was the fighter who panicked in his corner after getting badly beaten in one round.

“He’s got something in his gloves,” the fighter screamed at Greg, who was working the corner that night.

“Yeah,” Greg calmly replied. “It’s his fists.”

There was the fighter who was recruited on short notice and arrived in horrible shape. He put on an embarrassing performance and suffered a first-round knockout.

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“It would have been different if I had trained or something,” the fighter said. “I could have lasted two rounds.”

There was Duarte in 1989, facing the end of his career, bitter at having to leave without the title he had so long sought.

“I just don’t want to fight anymore,” he said. “I’d rather walk out of the fight game than go out on my back because I’ve had one fight too many. Who am I kidding? I’m a 34-year-old man. I have a great chin, but there’s always that night the chin turns to rust.” Said Dan: “It was a hell of a run.”

And, in a way, it continues.

Rafael Ruelas has signed with Top Rank and Gabriel is expected to follow. Nunn has talked about returning to the Goossens. Joe will become an independent trainer. Larry Goossen runs a gym in Big Bear. Greg has carved out a new career with bit acting parts.

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