Eric Bottjer
This one is vital. And it hurts. Steve Morrow is gone. You may recognize the name – Steve was a long-time boxing referee in California who became part of the WBC family. And if you actually knew Steve – on any level – today will be a day dedicated to processing his loss.
I met Steve in 1989. I moved to Gilroy, California right out of journalism school, working at the local newspaper, The Dispatch. The editor put me on a town hall beat. Huge mistake. A great reporter from the neighboring San Jose Mercury News, Jack Foley, regularly kicked my butt (he caught me).
And then a stroke of luck. The police and court reporter was leaving and the editor in desperation threw me into her seat (Perrin Weston, HUGE shoes to fill and not because she had massive feet). Soon I was kicking Jack’s ass (which I’m kind of proud of because Jack Foley shared the Pulitzer Prize with other Mercury reporters in 1989). And I used my press badge to get into local fights.
One night at Joe Gagliardi’s gala in San Jose, there was a great four-round fight that ended with fans littering the ring with coins (for the fighters). I noticed a group of guys in economical seats who seemed to be aiming coins at my ringside seat (where I happened to be sitting).
Stupidly fearless, I went to face them. And there they were – six Gilroy cops, Steve Morrow among them. It was a really significant moment (for me). I gained the trust of most of the department (“He’s a good kid. He likes boxing”), and these officers graciously allowed me a peek into their world, which gave me credibility not only with them, but also with my colleagues in the journalism industry, because these cops gave me information that allowed me to write some notable stories (I knew I was almost accepted by the police when the cops started calling me “Jimmy Olsen” – nicknames were popular with them).
Steve wasn’t their leader, but he was the one I bonded with the most. Steve was a thoroughly decent man who “got” life and what meaning life could (and should) have – helping others. He wrote an occasional column for The Dispatch, explaining his work to the 40,000 people who lived in Gilroy. There is no doubt that Steve was a tough guy, but in the many rides I went on with Steve and other officers, he was never aggressive towards people, and many of those people were not elated to see Steve and his fellow officers. I learned that a good officer smooths over arguments and treats everyone the same, regardless of their personal feelings (some police officers face terrible behavior). Even when I occasionally encountered officers I didn’t care about, Steve humanized them for me. And I know he made it clear that I was being humane towards them (cops and reporters have a natural, adversarial working relationship).
Everything Steve did for me, the most gracious act he ever did in my newborn life was allowing me to aid him. I wrote a column for Virgil Thrasher’s excellent trade publication Boxing Update (and its sister publication The Flash), and Steve asked me how he could write some. For eight years I introduced him to Virgil and Steve’s boxing, going to all the events in Northern California and reporting from the ring.
In the meantime, he told me that he would like to try refereeing. I talked to Dean Lohuis from the committee, who helped Steve get into this world. When I first saw Steve smiling as a ring referee during a title fight on HBO, I felt like a proud little brother.
I don’t take credit for Steve getting into boxing. He would have found his way even if we had never met. But I’m very glad we met. I love him so much.