Michael Stoute, Chris Colbert Clean Up At New York Golden Gloves
Photos by Pat Russo and Sarah Deming
by Sarah Deming
BROOKLYN, N.Y.–Only three boys showed up to Atlas Cops and Kids on Friday, not counting the party of four I ejected for horseplay. The day after The Daily News Golden Gloves is always an anticlimax, even for noncombatants.
I sat on the apron writing while Omar worked pads with the kid from Uzbekistan and Shaquille (AKA “Ice Cream”) hit the heavy bag for half an hour, stopping periodically to tell us he was going to be an Olympic gold medallist. Ice Cream won Best Fight of the Tournament for his rip-roaring preliminary loss. He would already be a world champ if he trained half as much as he talks.
The Daily News Golden Gloves finals were this Wednesday and Thursday at the Barclays Center, and my husband Ethan, actually in town and not playing jazz, agreed to go with me the first night. When you are a married woman in boxing, you need to show off your husband once in a while, like waving around a gun.
“How do these guys have so many friends?” Ethan asked, in regard to Anthony “Muscles” Demonte and Domonique White.
It was a good question. Each of the 152-pound novices had sold over 350 tickets. Muscles, the adorable 17-year-old who reps Atlas Cops and Kids Berry Homes, is the son of a longshoreman who owns a sandwich shop in Red Hook. Perhaps his dad gave out tickets with every meatball sub. I don’t know Domonique White, but the announcer said he was a construction worker, so maybe he invited the union.
The two factions were screaming with each punch. It was a wild affair and too close to call, but I was happy the split decision went to Demonte, who took home the Mark Breland Award for best novice of the tournament.
Wednesday’s other highlight was Christian “Kike” Bermudez’s dramatic victory over Christian Chavez in the 132-pound open class. Kike has always been the kind of fighter who takes a few to land a few. Chavez caught him flush in the second, sending him to the canvas, but Kike recovered well and blazed back to take the unanimous win.
He and I have been close ever since I taught him that his nickname, pronounced differently, is an ethnic slur against my tribe. Happy Passover, Kike!
The lion’s share of good bouts were on Thursday night, most of which I spent in the blue corner dressing room, gorging myself on Calexico loaded nachos as I waited for bout nine. I had spit bucket duty for Chris “B-Hop” Colbert (top, above). Like Kike, B-Hop was just 17 but would be fighting in the open class because he had been a Junior Olympic champion.
A trainer shouldn’t have favorites, but there’s just something about B-Hop. Maybe it’s the contrast between the size of his body (114 pounds) and the size of his ego (galactic). Maybe it’s his penchant for mischief and mayhem or the joy he radiates in the ring. He makes me think of that great Clifford Geertz essay “Deep Play.”
On the television in the dressing room we admired the calm southpaw style of featherweight Michael Stoute (above), who made two-time champion Jaime Estrada look like a novice. Stoute got a handsome belt as the Sugar Ray Robinson best open boxer of the tournament.
Next door, featherweight Jennifer Chieng (below) was putting on a brave face about fighting Christina Cruz, who would be going for a record-breaking eighth straight title. Chieng’s poise was admirable. Maybe it was the inspiration of trainer Heather Hardy, who goes in the record books herself on June 14 as the first female pro boxer at Barclays.
Christina Cruz, meanwhile, said she was a nervous wreck, that she was always tense until the moment the bell rang. I asked if she had fought Chieng before. She smiled.
“First round stoppage. Left hook to the liver.”
Chieng did better this time and hung on the whole four rounds, though she took a pounding at the end. Cruz (below)captured the trophy for best female boxer of the tournament, and I hope she has a thick chain to carry all that bling.
There was an intermission during which they gave out robes to the first class of inductees into the Daily News Golden Gloves Hall of Fame, but I am boycotting this topic due to not being allowed at the VIP cocktail hour. I can, however, tell you that most of the honorees looked red and bloated, except Mark Breland, who has aged like fine wine.
Then it was time for B-Hop, who was unfortunately fighting another boxer from our gym, Jordan “Pee Wee” Rodriguez. There’s been a certain chill in the air at Atlas Cops and Kids ever since these two made the finals. Thank God we have two rings so we could keep them apart.
Pee Wee is a slugger with huge heart who had the “man strength” edge, but I knew I’d picked the winning corner. B-Hop proved once again that a good boxer always beats a good puncher. It was a beautiful thing to see up close. After the decision, Coach Sosa gathered both boxers into an embrace.
Later that night Atlas Cops and Kids gained another champion when Earl Newman, Jr. (above) notched his third stoppage of the tournament. Too smooth!
I went back to the blue corner dressing room, where I was surprised to see Michael Stoute holding an iPhone up to the TV screen, which was broadcasting the novice bout between Mavlon Umarov and Jalil Regalas. B-Hop’s voice was coming out of the speakers. The son of a gun had joined the ringside commentators, where he was calling the fight better than the play-by-play guy and hitting up Lou DiBella for Cotto-Martinez tickets.
“Can I take a picture of you with your belt?” I asked Michael Stoute.
“Sure. After I finish recording this guy’s fight for him.”
The iPhone turned out to belong to Mavlon Umarov, who was losing badly. I was curious why Michael Stoute was going to all this trouble for some novice fighter when he could have been eating his way to welterweight.
“Did you know Umarov before tonight?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “But he asked me to do it.”
I watched him stand patiently in the empty dressing room, holding the phone steady until they raised the winner’s hand. It is the generosity of boxers that keeps me in this game.