Boxer and The Boxer

Jose Ramirez was one year old when Barbara Boxer entered the U.S. Senate. The year was 1993, The Central Valley Project Improvement Act, signed into law by outgoing President George H.W. Bush, began the era of California water victimhood, safe spaces and cuddle puppies for a newly-discovered endangered little fish. The CVPIA placed the environment at the head of the water queue – it required the iron-clad diversion of 800,000 acre-feet of CVP water towards restoration and wildlife refuges each year. Jose Ramirez’ family and tens of thousands of other ag workers relied on that same water to nourish the fields and orchards and vineyards which in turn feed much of the nation. They moved to the back of the line.

Steeped in feminist causes and environmental activism; mentored by Bay Area liberal Congressmen John Burton and his brother Phillip, George Miller, Nancy Pelosi, Dianne Feinstein and others, Barbara Boxer got busy remaking the Golden State into a fortress of social engineering. The CVPIA was a big help, time and again it provided cover to the conceit of choosing fish over farmers. Ms. Boxer retires in few weeks after serving thirty-four years in Congress, twenty- four of them in the Senate. Jose Ramirez will not be retiring for many years to come, his star is rising in the professional boxing world. The two couldn’t be more dissimilar, yet they are bound by water.

On December 2nd, the very day that California’s senior senator, Dianne Feinstein, broke with her 98% ideological pal to announce specifics of her latest collaboration to get some water flowing in drought-damaged California, Avenal’s Jose Ramirez was staging his sixth “Fight For Water” to the delight of a sold-out Save Mart Center crowd. The odd synchronicity here is that Ramirez has spent his life in the south valley working the fields where livelihoods depend almost entirely upon the uninterrupted flow of water, Boxer has spent much of her career interrupting it.

Ramirez, won his 19th professional bout with a sixth round technical knockout of Bronx boxer, Issouf Kinda. Again it was an almost too-fast-to-be-seen left hook to the liver that stopped Kinda in his tracks. Ramirez should patent the punch and charge other boxers to use it, so deft is his application of it, so deadly and precise and utterly effective.

With each victory, Jose Carlos Ramirez enhances his “Fight for Water” portfolio. He takes the five-year drought personally – both mother nature’s withholding of timely rain and snow, and the politicians’ hand in it by diverting and wasting vast quantities of water, kept from farmers and Southlanders for no discernable reason other than to try to save the beleaguered delta smelt, which stubbornly declines each year, regardless. He fights for water for his family, his year-old son, Matteo, for his people, for the Valley, and incidentally, for those who have an unremarked stake in the affairs of California.

Will he knock out every opponent? Who knows? This is boxing. But the 24-year old is now ranked the number six lightweight contender in the U.S. and it becomes tougher for Top Rank matchmakers to find suitable competition. He might have to travel to Scotland next year to continue ascending the often inscrutable rankings in professional boxing. With each win, it also becomes harder to ignore his water voice, which is focused, relentless and effective in gaining new acolytes. More than 13,700 people paid money to fill The SMC for the Kinda fight, this in a corner of the world where there is not a lot of disposable income available for boxing matches or anything else. Nearly everyone signed a petition at the entrance turnstiles supporting the Fight For Water. An army of small voices grows louder. Blow by blow the tide is turning. The incoming Trump administration promises to help, Jose Ramirez is in a position to cheer them on.

Senator Boxer can be a bit prickly — a cloud of hautier arrogance travels with her everywhere. Once, in the late ’90s, when she ventured into the Valley for one of her exceedingly rare appearances she arrived at the Mosqueda Center in Fresno amid a phalanx of aides. Nothing was unplanned, nothing left to chance; a small riser appeared at the podium for the 4′ 11″ senator from Marin by way of Brooklyn to stand upon to look taller as she dispensed largesse on Valley folk. A famous character sketch occurred in a senate hearing room on June 16, 2009. Ms. Boxer was grilling Brigadier General Michael Walsh, who made the mistake of answering the senator’s question respectfully with the word, ma’am.” She interrupted with reproach, “You know, do me a favor, could you say senator instead of ma’am?” She fairly hissed her disdain, “It’s just a thing, I worked so hard to get that title, so I’d appreciate it. Yes, thank you.” General Walsh: “Yes, senator.”

Jose Ramirez does not demand accolades they just seem to flow naturally.
He is soft-spoken and thoughtful. He has no flashy nickname. To wound with words would never occur to him. His affiliation with the Latino Water Coalition predates his rise to boxing stardom – it is authentic and permanent and a heartfelt conviction. He is also the hardest puncher most of his opponents have ever faced.

In a surprisingly angry split with her longtime Democratic ally, Ms. Boxer vowed to fight the Feinstein rider (Subtitle J – California Water) to Senate Bill 612, the Water Infrastructure Improvements for the Nation Act, which Boxer originally helped write. Ms. Feinstein said recently that federal agencies continue to restrict pumping of water through the Delta even though current law allows some flexibility, and at any rate, “available data suggested that no smelt or salmon were anywhere near the pumps.” Boxer has always held that the only good pump was an idle pump. Yet, less than a week later, on the evening of Friday, December 9th, Boxer announced that she would give up her plan to filibuster the bill, and thus retire almost gracefully.

The 700-page measure passed overwhelmingly and was signed into law by President Obama on Friday, December 16th. It sprinkles $12-billion dollars around the country for 30 major infrastructure projects, $170-million for Flint, Michigan to rebuild its lead-poisoned water system, and $558-million for drought relief in Central and Southern California.

Jose Ramirez told me once that he can tell by the look in an opponent’s eye when they are close to capitulation. The Water War is far from over and there certainly will be a Fight For Water-7 next year and maybe an 8 and 9 and 10. But for the first time in a long time, there is that look in Ms. Boxer’s eye.