Nicolino Locche – the boxing hall of famer who built his career on not fighting

Nicolino Locche is considered one of the greatest boxers of all time. Though he was an exceptional pugilist, Locche remarkably built his career around not throwing punches!

In fact, he would often push his face out to encourage opponents to hit him. He would fold his arms behind his back and yell out one-liners to the audience like: "Now you'll see how I'm going to beat this one," or ask ironically: "And me, when do I strike?"

He was different from the other boxers. The others always had their fists clenched, their triceps tensed... Nicolino went into the ring relaxed, his arms relaxed, his fists down.

He watched his opponent's hands and knew where he would hit. He was always a second ahead. His approach was to tire and frustrate his opponents and then floor them with a few well-placed punches.

He was born in Mendoza, Argentina in 1939. As a child, he spent a lot of time on the streets, running away from a group that was always waiting for him on the same corner to beat him up. The term didn't exist yet, but what little Locche suffered was bullying.

One day he decided enough was enough and went to a gym near his home, the now-demolished Mocoroa Gym, the epicenter of Mendoza's boxing school, to learn how to protect himself. This is how he learned about the sport and started training at the age of 8.

At the boxing school in Mocoroa he met his trainer Paco Bermúdez. Paco was very strict. It is said that if Locche didn't listen to him, Paco pulled his ears back.

He showed immense raw talent but there was always one thing that stood in his way – He was lazy and hated training. When the coach told him to run 10 kilometers, he took a shortcut after 5 kilometers. When he returned, he would wet his hair in a fountain to make it look like he had sweated profusely.

He was a man who loved to party; loved the night more than the day and cabarets more than the gym. Maybe that's why he looked much older than he was – like a 50-year-old instead of a 20-year-old man.

After years of being undefeated in Mendoza, Locche won the Argentine national title in 1961 by defeating champion Jaime Gine. He then went to Buenos Aires, to the Luna Park stadium, the temple of boxing in the 1960s.

When he presented his style to a knowledgeable and discerning audience, everyone looked at him in disbelief. He was an anti-boxer, and not exactly what patrons had come to see. Sometimes he would go an entire round without being hit and without landing a single blow himself. There was no aggression, no knockouts, no blood. He didn't fight, they said.

He became the new rival to beat. All the great boxers of the time wanted to fight him. Joe Brown, Ismael Laguna, Carlos Ortiz. Sandro Lopopolo... In the USA it was Mohammed Ali. In Argentina, Nicolino Locche. None of them could hold a candle to Nicolino. The Argentines were bursting with pride thanks to their new boxing hero.

In 1968, no one was better than Japan's Takeshi Fuji, the undefeated world champion. Journalist Ernesto Cherquis Bialo called him "the fearsome kamikaze of samurai fame." If he wanted to be the best, Nicolino had to leave Luna Park and fight far from home.

As expected, Fuji went on the attack, Locche on defense. But this time a world title was at stake. And this time, Locche fought harder than ever against the Japanese. In the eighth round, the Japanese landed the only punch of the entire fight.

As Fuji started to tire out, Locche seemed to just build more and more momentum, forcing the Japanese icon to give up and throw in the towel in the tenth round. Nicolino Locche became the new world champion and Argentina went crazy.

Locche defended his world title five times. In 1973 he separated from with his trainer Paco and lost his next fight against Alfonso Frazer. He was out of shape and was a shadow of himself and lost the world title as a result. He retired at the age of 37 in 1975.

In 2003 he was inducted into the International Boxing Hall of Fame. He died in Mendoza in 2005 at the age of 65. Previously, Maria Rosa, his second wife, had heard his last dream: he wanted to fight again in Luna Park.