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Standing Eight: The Inspiring Story of Jesus "El Matador" Chavez
Here is the inspirational story of Gabriel Sandoval, who grew up in the small dirt-poor town of Delicias, Mexico. Crossing the U.S. border with his family as a young boy of seven, he settled in Chicago, where he learned to speak English and to box-winning three Gold Glove championships-and where he also joined a gang, committing a robbery in his teens that landed him in one of the most violent prisons in America, Statesville. After his three-year stint in prison was up, he was met by an INS agent and put on the first plane to Mexico City with fifty dollars in his pocket. He eventually re-entered the U.S. illegally. Settling in Austin, Texas, he resumed his boxing career and changed his name to Jesus "El Matador" -- after the Chicago gym in which he learned to box-Chavez, and went on to become the Lightweight champion of the world. But the story doesn't end with this crowning achievement. He applied for a driver's license, and his real name, Gabriel Sandoval, came up on the computer and he was found to be in the U.S. illegally. For the second time, he was deported to Mexico before gaining his U.S. citizenship after a long, protracted fight with the U.S. government. Standing Eight is the triumphant tale of a strong-willed fighter who refused to stay down for the count and overcame tremendous obstacles to become champion of the world.
- GenresSports
248 pages, Paperback
First published April 24, 2006
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Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
February 7, 2016
Another brilliant boxing biography. Jesus Chavez had a very tough childhood. Originally from Mexico he moved to Chicago but got into gang trouble there in his teens. He was sent to prison where he trained very hard but came out much heavier and certainly musclier than he had been when he went inside. When he was let out he then moved to Austin Texas and joined the Lord’s gym where his career took off. The interesting thing about his character and style was the psychology that went into his fights. He almost refused to lose mentally. There was something about him that just meant that he hardly gave up. His most famous fight was probably a late stoppage when he lost to Floyd Mayweather Junior who I believe was at his peak at the time and much more of a talent in comparison to his more flat footed self you may have seen the last 5 years. Jesus Chavez (real name Gabriel Sandoval) was arguably ahead or at least level on the cards when Mayweather forced him to stop in the later rounds (circa 8/9th I believe) I think that that and his fight against Augustus and Castillo were the closest of mayweather's career and set a blueprint for how to beat him which people like Marcus Maidana followed more recently but still fell short. Jesus is an extremely likeable character who felt alienated in both American and Mexico at first but eventually managed to win over both sides due to his relentless fighting style and likeable personality. Again another brilliant book which gives you insight into his training and technique.
May 26, 2009
The writer was trying to find his style in the first half of this book and I almost put it down a few times, not to pick it back up. But there was this feel that something was going to make this story pay off and once I got about 1/2 way the story did take off and in a big way. I couldn't put the book down!
I also learned how not to write, and then how to write. I was just thinking that it was too bad the writer didn't have a better editor to look over his shoulder. But once we get to the major fights it reads like a brease.....flows in and out like a master storyteller. There is a point where the writer goes back again and while talking about another fighter that grew up in the same area and would fight Chavez....I had to endure the flash back info again but that was brief and we were back rooting for El Matador again.
Now I have to try and find this documentary film that was shot during the writing of much of this book. And I have to do some research to find out what has happened to Chavez since this book was written. 2005 I think.
I also learned how not to write, and then how to write. I was just thinking that it was too bad the writer didn't have a better editor to look over his shoulder. But once we get to the major fights it reads like a brease.....flows in and out like a master storyteller. There is a point where the writer goes back again and while talking about another fighter that grew up in the same area and would fight Chavez....I had to endure the flash back info again but that was brief and we were back rooting for El Matador again.
Now I have to try and find this documentary film that was shot during the writing of much of this book. And I have to do some research to find out what has happened to Chavez since this book was written. 2005 I think.
September 16, 2016
it was a good book. very personal . i liked that he the father did a lot for the family.took a lot of trips in the book. learned a few things from this book never give up. he did a lot.be thankful for what you got.
March 6, 2007
Way to go, Adam. The prose was a little melodramatic at times, but the book is a fascinating story of a Mexican-American boxer trying to deal with immigration and the ruthless boxing world.
December 26, 2009
fairly typical boxing biography- compelling, fascinating story mated with pedestrian-to-poor writing. Worth a read if you're a boxing nut or a big fan of the Matador.
October 21, 2009
The inspiring story of Jesus “El Matador” Chavez, who became lightweight champion of the world.
Good read for fight fans.
Good read for fight fans.
November 19, 2018
A very good book about a very Latin and American story.
July 29, 2023
Jesus Chavez—born Gabriel Sandoval—is not a boxer destined to make the Hall of Fame in Canastota, New York. Even the name sounds like a conflation of other Mexican journeymen’s names, a mixing and matching of other “have gumshield, will travel” types. What was it Nigel Benn said of Chris Eubank in his dismissal of his boxing record? “Who’s he beat? Anuva Sanchez? Anuva Lopez?”
Jesus Chavez won two world titles, which the non-fan might think worthy of high praise. But due to the proliferation of belts and sanctioning bodies—and the consequent inflation they brought with them—this distinction means less than it once might have.
Still, it’s an impressive enough accomplishment, and becomes even more impressive once you realize what kind of hardships Chavez had to overcome in his ascent up the ranks.
He came to the country illegally with his family who were originally from Delicias, Mexico. The Sandoval clan lived in the roughest section of Chicago, where Gabriel couldn’t help but fall in with the rougher element.
He showed promise as a young amateur boxer and looked destined to have a solid, if unspectacular career. But then fate—or at least dumb friends—intervened and put the kibosh on that. Jesus was convicted of armed robbery and sent up the river. He did hard time in some of America’s most dangerous prisons, and was then summarily deported.
Many people would have given up on their dreams at this point, but Chavez chose this time to rebuild. He fought his way up the ranks in Mexico (much harder than padding one’s record stateside) and eventually made his way back into America. He then fell in with an expert but unheralded coach who counted Richard “Lord British” Garriott and David Bowie among his clients.
Yes, David Bowie.
Gabe, still poverty-stricken and with few prospects, lived like a monk for several years, literally sleeping in the back of the boxing gym where he trained. He fought not just against other, more ballyhooed fighters, but against government agents hellbent on adding a scalp to their trophy case.
Lacking connections and the political skills to finesse his way to the title, Jesus Chavez won his reputation as a boxer-slugger the hard way. His style wasn’t pretty, more like Carlos Monzon than Pernell Whitaker, but he got the job done and provided value for money to the fans. In the meantime he experienced the joys of fatherhood, true love, and then the subsequent heartbreak that comes when that love sours.
The book leaves him at an ambivalent point in his life, in the twilight of his career, yet still not entirely irrelevant. He bears the scars of battle and the figurative but deeper scars of all kinds of traumas and hurts. One of those hurts involves a tragedy familiar to boxing fans who witnessed some of the benchmark fights of the decade: the in-ring death of Leavander Johnson.
Sadly, death in the ring is still fairly common, despite the number of failsafe measures installed to prevent it.
Standing Eight presents its story in a solid, straightforward manner. It also presents the details—the troughs and heights—of Chavez’s personal life in a way that makes it impossible not to root for the underdog. Some of the descriptions of fights blur if not toward hagiography, then at least toward a glossing over of the true details. Chavez was a solid “all-rounder,” as the British boxing cognoscenti say—but he had no business mixing with Floyd “Pretty Boy” Mayweather. That author Adam Pitluk presents the fight as not just competitive, but close, shows negligence, although it’s a negligence borne of a kindly bias toward friends.
And there are worse things than trying to spare one’s friends. Biographies, as Roger Ebert once said, many times see their subjects through their mother’s eyes. A friend isn’t usually as blinded by love as a mother, but the eyes do tend to get misty when telling these kinds of stories. With lots of photos.
Jesus Chavez won two world titles, which the non-fan might think worthy of high praise. But due to the proliferation of belts and sanctioning bodies—and the consequent inflation they brought with them—this distinction means less than it once might have.
Still, it’s an impressive enough accomplishment, and becomes even more impressive once you realize what kind of hardships Chavez had to overcome in his ascent up the ranks.
He came to the country illegally with his family who were originally from Delicias, Mexico. The Sandoval clan lived in the roughest section of Chicago, where Gabriel couldn’t help but fall in with the rougher element.
He showed promise as a young amateur boxer and looked destined to have a solid, if unspectacular career. But then fate—or at least dumb friends—intervened and put the kibosh on that. Jesus was convicted of armed robbery and sent up the river. He did hard time in some of America’s most dangerous prisons, and was then summarily deported.
Many people would have given up on their dreams at this point, but Chavez chose this time to rebuild. He fought his way up the ranks in Mexico (much harder than padding one’s record stateside) and eventually made his way back into America. He then fell in with an expert but unheralded coach who counted Richard “Lord British” Garriott and David Bowie among his clients.
Yes, David Bowie.
Gabe, still poverty-stricken and with few prospects, lived like a monk for several years, literally sleeping in the back of the boxing gym where he trained. He fought not just against other, more ballyhooed fighters, but against government agents hellbent on adding a scalp to their trophy case.
Lacking connections and the political skills to finesse his way to the title, Jesus Chavez won his reputation as a boxer-slugger the hard way. His style wasn’t pretty, more like Carlos Monzon than Pernell Whitaker, but he got the job done and provided value for money to the fans. In the meantime he experienced the joys of fatherhood, true love, and then the subsequent heartbreak that comes when that love sours.
The book leaves him at an ambivalent point in his life, in the twilight of his career, yet still not entirely irrelevant. He bears the scars of battle and the figurative but deeper scars of all kinds of traumas and hurts. One of those hurts involves a tragedy familiar to boxing fans who witnessed some of the benchmark fights of the decade: the in-ring death of Leavander Johnson.
Sadly, death in the ring is still fairly common, despite the number of failsafe measures installed to prevent it.
Standing Eight presents its story in a solid, straightforward manner. It also presents the details—the troughs and heights—of Chavez’s personal life in a way that makes it impossible not to root for the underdog. Some of the descriptions of fights blur if not toward hagiography, then at least toward a glossing over of the true details. Chavez was a solid “all-rounder,” as the British boxing cognoscenti say—but he had no business mixing with Floyd “Pretty Boy” Mayweather. That author Adam Pitluk presents the fight as not just competitive, but close, shows negligence, although it’s a negligence borne of a kindly bias toward friends.
And there are worse things than trying to spare one’s friends. Biographies, as Roger Ebert once said, many times see their subjects through their mother’s eyes. A friend isn’t usually as blinded by love as a mother, but the eyes do tend to get misty when telling these kinds of stories. With lots of photos.
February 15, 2008
The writing style of this author really bothers me, so I stopped reading it and had Mike tell me what happens. The story is interesting, so it's unfortunate that the writing bugs me so much.
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews