NORTH HOLLYWOOD, Calif. — At 39, a decade after our last meeting, Julio Cesar Chavez Jr. appears more substantial, not heavy, but physically thicker. His features are more pronounced, and even the crown of his head seems more prominent – an apt metaphor for someone born into boxing royalty. The upcoming fight against Jake Paul is at 200 pounds, the cruiserweight limit, and I can`t help but wonder if he`ll manage the weight, a recurring theme in his unpredictable career. Surprised? One shouldn`t be. Chavez Jr.`s entire professional journey has been an ever-perplexing guessing game.
Despite the challenges, I retain a degree of admiration for Chavez Jr., stemming from a 2015 interview alongside his legendary father. That encounter revealed the complexities of growing up as the son of Mexico`s most celebrated fighter, especially during his father`s struggles with addiction. However, the past decade has been inconsistent for Chavez Jr., holding a 6-5 record. Notable losses include one to Anderson Silva, an MMA fighter previously beaten by Paul, and two instances where he quit. More recently, he faced gun charges and entered a residential rehab program. His latest win was a six-round decision over MMA veteran Uriah Hall in Hall`s boxing debut last July. I continue to support him, particularly appreciating those in boxing who expose their vulnerabilities, which often led them to the sport in the first place.
Given my positive inclination towards Julio, the recent press conference was jarring. While pre-fight taunts are common, Paul`s calculated approach was striking. The former Disney star expertly targeted Chavez Jr.`s insecurities, labeling him “the embarrassment of Mexico,” suggesting *he* belonged on the Disney Channel, and vowing to make him quit, just as he has before. The most direct attack came when Paul linked Chavez Jr.`s professional struggles to his personal battle, stating, “There are two things you can`t beat: me and your drug addiction.”
Paul also cleverly, perhaps inadvertently, involved Julio Cesar Chavez Sr. in the verbal sparring. The elder Chavez, speaking extensively for his son, insisted Jake couldn`t win and claimed he`d never seen Junior train so hard. Paul`s sharp retort was simply, “What is this, `Bring Your Dad to Work Day`?”
Born in 1962, Julio Cesar Chavez Sr. emerged from a difficult background in Culiacán, a city deeply connected to the Sinaloa cartel, and was himself the son of a violent alcoholic. He even lived for a time in a boxcar. Yet, boxing possesses a unique power to elevate individuals from destitution to iconic status, as it did for Chavez Sr. His ambition was legendary, leading to career-altering victories over formidable opponents.
But what of his son`s drive? While many recall Junior as a symbolic “prince” in a red headband, part of his father`s grand ring entrances, his own memories are shaped by his father`s substance abuse. Growing up surrounded by cartel activity in Culiacán, he described his father`s alcohol and drug use as constant – “Every day, every hour, every second.” Chavez Sr. himself tearfully acknowledged the hardship his addiction placed upon his children, holding back tears as he did so.
Junior recounted that when he was twelve, his father would offer money to local kids if they could beat his son in a fight. His father was pleased when Junior won. This led to the poignant question: Was fighting the path to earning his father`s affection? Junior`s stark reply: “Yes. No fight, no love.” Asked about harboring anger, he admitted, reflecting on his challenging life, “Yes, I`m angry with him.”
Despite this complex relationship, it was Junior who ultimately facilitated his father`s entry into rehab in 2011. Following his stepmother`s plan, he arranged for his father, while under anesthesia for a medical procedure, to be taken to a residential treatment facility instead. His stepmother later commented that without that intervention, Senior might not be alive today.
One might question why the son of Mexico`s greatest fighter would choose the same path, facing an inherently unwinnable comparison. His father initially expected him to quit after a couple of fights. Yet, Junior defied expectations, becoming an overachiever. Despite lacking an amateur background, he captured the WBC middleweight title in 2011. The following year, he defeated the accomplished Andy Lee, an Olympic-level fighter. His first loss, a dramatic effort against Sergio Martinez where he nearly scored a 12th-round knockdown despite a badly swollen eye, actually earned him significant respect, leaving his record at 46-1-1.
This period of success was followed by his own battles with alcohol and drugs. Perhaps a predisposition inherited from his family history of addiction played a role, or maybe it was something else entirely – the inverse of the “no boxing, no love” dynamic. Regardless, his training, typically done at night, grew increasingly inconsistent. Managing weight seemed secondary. Whether attributed to a lack of discipline, depression, or a subconscious urge to undermine his family`s legacy, overtraining is certainly not a charge one could level against Junior.
This context makes his father`s press conference assertion – that Junior was training harder than ever for Paul – particularly puzzling. Just five days later, his strength and conditioning coach, Chris Camacho, sent Junior a text message (later shared with me) indicating he was withdrawing his support. Camacho explained that he couldn`t continue investing energy in a camp if Junior wasn`t serious, citing missed sessions and chronic lateness. He stated he needed to focus his energy elsewhere, though he wished Junior well in the fight.
Camacho, whose impressive roster includes top fighters like Gennadiy Golovkin and numerous UFC champions, echoed my own observations about Junior: amiable and pleasant, but frustratingly prone to self-sabotage. He reported scheduling sixteen training sessions but Junior missed five or six and was consistently late by at least half an hour. While liking the person, Camacho emphasized the importance of his professional reputation, wishing Junior would place similar value on his family name.
Eleven days before the fight, our interview was set for 8 p.m. at the Brickhouse Boxing Club in North Hollywood. His trainer, Charlie Huerta, was apologetic about Chavez Jr.`s lateness, initially saying they were packing up to leave. In reality, Junior was just waking up at 8:50 p.m., delaying the interview for another hour. Huerta, 38 and a year younger than Junior, also comes from a boxing family; his father ran a known gym. A former junior lightweight with a 21-7 pro record, Huerta is now trying to build his career as a trainer, a necessity given his own family, making this opportunity hard to refuse.
Inquired about his strength and conditioning since Camacho`s departure, Huerta described the regimen as mostly “old-school” – shadowboxing, mitt work, and “some weights,” specifically mentioning dumbbells. Sparring was scheduled three times a week, with Chavez Jr. completing 36 rounds the previous week. Huerta admitted it`s challenging to get him to the gym, but insisted that once there, he trains with full intensity. He believes if Chavez Jr. is at 100%, Jake Paul cannot defeat them.
Finally, Chavez Jr. arrived, looking tired, accompanied by assistants and sparring partners. He lay down on the ring apron while an assistant worked on his calves with a massage tool. We spoke as his hands were being wrapped for his workout. Asked why he continues to fight, he responded, “Boxing saved my life.” Elaborating, he explained, “It helped me stop drinking. It`s one of the things.”
He mentioned his two children with his wife, Frida (previously married to the son of notorious trafficker Joaquín `El Chapo` Guzmán): 12-year-old Julia and 4-year-old Julio. He stated he has been sober for eighteen months.
When asked about his former coach, Camacho, Junior replied that they “still text with him.” Huerta then clarified the situation, explaining that the disagreement arose because Camacho wanted four training days a week, while Junior preferred only two, wanted to avoid Saturdays, and found the commute too long.
Asked about his strategy for beating Jake Paul, Junior replied flatly, “Throw a lot of punches. Train hard.”
Did he take Paul`s press conference remarks personally? “No,” he said, “I expected that.” Why did Paul choose to fight him? “He thinks I`m old,” Junior speculated. “He wants to take advantage of my situation.”
Perhaps not age, but certainly his unpredictable “situation” is what Paul seeks to exploit. It seems to be Chavez Jr.`s inherent state, a predicament running through his lineage: the deep-seated connection between fighting and feeling worthy – “no boxing, no love.”
Ellis Thorne 
Percy Harlow