Tapia had been told that his father was murdered while his mother was pregnant with him, a notion that he believed until 2010, when he discovered his birth father was a man he had known his entire life. Death, disadvantage and depression were common themes in Tapia’s life, as he lost his mother, Virginia, at the age of 8, when she was brutally murdered.
Tapia even witnessed his mother’s murder, awakening to her screams and seeing her chained to the back of a pickup truck, helpless in a terrifying situation. It would have been easy for the youngster to fold his cards at that point, seemingly destined for failure as a result of unbelievably unfortunate circumstances.
But Tapia soon turned to boxing, a sport where controlled rage can be an asset, quickly moving his way through the ranks to the point where he had become nationally recognized. Still, however, it wasn’t without trouble, as he battled depression, as well as alcohol and cocaine problems — all of which led to him experiencing run-ins with the law.
Tapia’s cocaine addiction nearly knocked him off the championship path in the early 1990s, when he was banned from boxing for nearly 3 1/2 years. He had fought hard — both literally and figuratively — since his adolescent horrors to garner national acclaim, but it was all crashing down, making a disastrous end to his life seem all but inevitable.
Tapia eventually kicked his disruptive habits, allowing him to return to boxing in 1994, at which point he picked up where he left off. With drugs out of the equation, championship glory entered into it, providing boxing fans with a true amazing, underdog story. No matter where you stood on Tapia the person, it was hard to lack respect for Tapia the boxer, considering how far he’d come since his days in the womb.
After all, how could a guy remain motivated through so much heartache?
“I love the challenge,” Tapia said during a 2000 interview with NewMexicoBoxing.com “Today everybody knows that I change trainers like switching my shorts. But the minute I start learning about boxing I’ll quit. I can just walk out . . . Well, I don’t know, it’s gonna be hard for me because I’ve been doing it now for 26 years. But y’know, I love the challenge. And it’s kept me living in life. For bigger and better things.”
The “bigger and better things” were soon hard to come by, though, as Tapia once again battled depression and run-ins with law enforcement in the late 2000s. He eventually returned to the sport he loved, and still found a way to take down opponents, but there’s only so much one man can take.
Tapia’s life came to an unfortunate, screeching halt on Sunday, when he was found dead at his Albuquerque home. At only 45 years old, Tapia’s life was undoubtedly cut short. But given the journey he endured in his 45 years on this planet — and before — the road seemed far longer.
“Mi Vida Loca” — which means “My Crazy Life” — was a phrase that became near and dear to Tapia throughout his life. He wrote an autobiography by the title and had the phrase tattooed onto him.
Now that we’re left looking back on Tapia’s life without wondering what lies ahead, it’s obvious that that phrase couldn’t be any more of an understatement.
