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From today's NYT
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/11/sports/11boxer.html
October 10, 2010
Floating at the Edge of a Dream
By ALISON GREGOR
DETROIT — The stellar record of the amateur boxer Erick De Leon, who is undefeated in this country for three years in his weight class, should make fighting for the United States in the 2012 Olympics a natural next step. Instead, De Leon’s biggest fight is not in the ring, but with the United States immigration system.
De Leon, 18, was born in a tiny town in northern Mexico. His parents brought him and three siblings to the United States when he was 6, but because of the difficulties in acquiring citizenship for minors, they never bothered to apply.
The lack of citizenship did not hold back De Leon as he won the national Police Athletic League championship in the 132-pound weight class in 2009, along with the national Golden Gloves titles in 2009 and 2010. But in an Olympic qualifying year, noncitizens are prohibited from fighting in national championships.
That realization left De Leon and his coaches scrambling this summer to expedite his citizenship application, a process that normally can take about eight months. De Leon must have his citizenship by the end of this year to compete in qualifying for the 2012 Olympics — and fighting in the Olympics has been his goal for years.
“I want to say, I made the Olympic team, and that’s all I dream about all the time — going to fight for that gold medal,” said De Leon, who is known as a slugger who tends to overpower opponents, but has been adapting his game to fight worldwide.
Ed Weichers, a coach with USA Boxing, the national governing body of amateur boxing, said that De Leon deserved the opportunity to fight for the United States — for no more reason than that American boxers do not want to have to face De Leon fighting for Mexico.
“He’s a talent; he’s a prospect; he’s 18 years old, and he’s doing great things,” Weichers said. “My comment to him was, I just didn’t want to see him represent Mexico, or wear a Mexican uniform. I wanted to see him wearing the red, white and blue colors.”
American boxing is looking to rebound from its dismal showing at the 2008 Games, when fighters from the United States won only one medal — a bronze.
At the Southwest Boxing Gym, run by one of De Leon’s coaches, Roberto Aguilar, in the Detroit neighborhood called Mexicantown, members of several nationalities compete. There is a big American flag over the ring, but a pair of red, white and green boxing gloves stamped with the flag of Mexico hangs on the wall.
De Leon, who was at the gym recently to spar with Aguilar’s 16-year-old son, Alejandro, wears a boxing helmet emblazoned with the Mexican flag. The gym, on the second floor of an old Masonic temple with sagging ceilings, has a fitness room, a heavy bag room and a ring that reverberates with the sound of hip-hop.
Once the buzzer keened, everyone went quiet as De Leon and Aguilar circled each other, eyes locked. As they punched, the floor shook.
“Let’s box, baby,” Roberto Aguilar said.
De Leon, a natural left-hander, grew up from the age of 7 fighting right-handed, much like his boxing idol Oscar De La Hoya. Aguilar, who is also left-handed, began training De Leon as a left-hander as soon as he realized De Leon’s natural inclination about six years ago. Now, De Leon can switch his lead hands seamlessly in the middle of a round, although Aguilar discourages him from doing so.
“When you’re switching, you’re vulnerable for that split second,” Aguilar said. “Erick does it so well, you can’t see it, but his opponent could catch it, or it could be a fluke and he throws a punch, and that’s all it takes. You only get to lose once at the Olympics, and once you’ve lost, guess what? It’s over.”
Aguilar is also trying to get De Leon to moderate his tendency to slug at his opponent, and increase his accuracy and consistency. In amateur boxing, a scoring blow does not have to be hard, it just has to land. In the past three years, De Leon has been defeated twice, in Europe most notably by a British boxer who tapped away until judges awarded him the match.
When the buzzer rang for 30 seconds left in the session against Aguilar, De Leon’s jabs underwent a transformation, and he started hooking into him repeatedly, despite cautionary words from Roberto Aguilar.
“Oh, that buzzer made the Mexican come out,” Aguilar said. “Erick, you’re thinking about banging, mi hijo. Let’s box.”
That talent for slugging will be an asset when De Leon starts boxing professionally, where at least part of the object is knocking out an opponent. Detroit has produced some great boxers, including Joe Louis, Thomas Hearns and Milton McCrory. Many, including De Leon, have been coached by Emanuel Steward, the founder of Detroit’s Kronk Gym.
“He’s a superstar,” Steward said of De Leon.
De Leon has felt the pressure to go professional and be done with the politics and bureaucracy of the Olympics. The De Leon family lives in a tidy house in a Detroit suburb called Lincoln Park. Luciano De Leon, who has dedicated much of his adult life to coaching his son, works long hours in construction.
“When he was little, I’d get home from work, and he’d say, ‘Put your hands up like this,’ and he’d start punching them,” Luciano De Leon said in Spanish. “At first I didn’t pay much attention to it, but he persisted, every day, and hit me harder and harder. So my friend helped me find him a gym, and in two months, he was fighting in the open class.”
After Erick De Leon spent much of his earnings on coaching and traveling to tournaments, which includes transportation, meals and hotels, a little more money would not hurt the family.
“Construction — it’s too hard, and I feel bad for him,” De Leon said. “I wish I could just make him stop working. So every time I see him working, I got to work hard, too.”
De Leon said he knew that if he waited a little longer, achieved his citizenship and realized his dream of winning the Olympics, the rewards would be great. His coach Aguilar, who has been the strongest advocate for this course of action, agreed.
“Right now, there’s a lot of people whispering in his ear, Turn pro now, and we’ll give you $500,000 for 20 fights,” Aguilar said. “I said, ‘$500,000 is a lot of money, son, but let’s wait till after 2012.’
“Let’s say he doesn’t get a gold, silver or bronze medal, but is just an Olympian. That $500,000 will turn to $5 million, and it won’t be for 20 fights, but only 10.”
De Leon said he had no doubt that if he got his citizenship, he could win the gold for the United States.
“It’s just the gold that I want,” he said. “I don’t like losing.”
Floating at the Edge of a Dream
By ALISON GREGOR
DETROIT — The stellar record of the amateur boxer Erick De Leon, who is undefeated in this country for three years in his weight class, should make fighting for the United States in the 2012 Olympics a natural next step. Instead, De Leon’s biggest fight is not in the ring, but with the United States immigration system.
De Leon, 18, was born in a tiny town in northern Mexico. His parents brought him and three siblings to the United States when he was 6, but because of the difficulties in acquiring citizenship for minors, they never bothered to apply.
The lack of citizenship did not hold back De Leon as he won the national Police Athletic League championship in the 132-pound weight class in 2009, along with the national Golden Gloves titles in 2009 and 2010. But in an Olympic qualifying year, noncitizens are prohibited from fighting in national championships.
That realization left De Leon and his coaches scrambling this summer to expedite his citizenship application, a process that normally can take about eight months. De Leon must have his citizenship by the end of this year to compete in qualifying for the 2012 Olympics — and fighting in the Olympics has been his goal for years.
“I want to say, I made the Olympic team, and that’s all I dream about all the time — going to fight for that gold medal,” said De Leon, who is known as a slugger who tends to overpower opponents, but has been adapting his game to fight worldwide.
Ed Weichers, a coach with USA Boxing, the national governing body of amateur boxing, said that De Leon deserved the opportunity to fight for the United States — for no more reason than that American boxers do not want to have to face De Leon fighting for Mexico.
“He’s a talent; he’s a prospect; he’s 18 years old, and he’s doing great things,” Weichers said. “My comment to him was, I just didn’t want to see him represent Mexico, or wear a Mexican uniform. I wanted to see him wearing the red, white and blue colors.”
American boxing is looking to rebound from its dismal showing at the 2008 Games, when fighters from the United States won only one medal — a bronze.
At the Southwest Boxing Gym, run by one of De Leon’s coaches, Roberto Aguilar, in the Detroit neighborhood called Mexicantown, members of several nationalities compete. There is a big American flag over the ring, but a pair of red, white and green boxing gloves stamped with the flag of Mexico hangs on the wall.
De Leon, who was at the gym recently to spar with Aguilar’s 16-year-old son, Alejandro, wears a boxing helmet emblazoned with the Mexican flag. The gym, on the second floor of an old Masonic temple with sagging ceilings, has a fitness room, a heavy bag room and a ring that reverberates with the sound of hip-hop.
Once the buzzer keened, everyone went quiet as De Leon and Aguilar circled each other, eyes locked. As they punched, the floor shook.
“Let’s box, baby,” Roberto Aguilar said.
De Leon, a natural left-hander, grew up from the age of 7 fighting right-handed, much like his boxing idol Oscar De La Hoya. Aguilar, who is also left-handed, began training De Leon as a left-hander as soon as he realized De Leon’s natural inclination about six years ago. Now, De Leon can switch his lead hands seamlessly in the middle of a round, although Aguilar discourages him from doing so.
“When you’re switching, you’re vulnerable for that split second,” Aguilar said. “Erick does it so well, you can’t see it, but his opponent could catch it, or it could be a fluke and he throws a punch, and that’s all it takes. You only get to lose once at the Olympics, and once you’ve lost, guess what? It’s over.”
Aguilar is also trying to get De Leon to moderate his tendency to slug at his opponent, and increase his accuracy and consistency. In amateur boxing, a scoring blow does not have to be hard, it just has to land. In the past three years, De Leon has been defeated twice, in Europe most notably by a British boxer who tapped away until judges awarded him the match.
When the buzzer rang for 30 seconds left in the session against Aguilar, De Leon’s jabs underwent a transformation, and he started hooking into him repeatedly, despite cautionary words from Roberto Aguilar.
“Oh, that buzzer made the Mexican come out,” Aguilar said. “Erick, you’re thinking about banging, mi hijo. Let’s box.”
That talent for slugging will be an asset when De Leon starts boxing professionally, where at least part of the object is knocking out an opponent. Detroit has produced some great boxers, including Joe Louis, Thomas Hearns and Milton McCrory. Many, including De Leon, have been coached by Emanuel Steward, the founder of Detroit’s Kronk Gym.
“He’s a superstar,” Steward said of De Leon.
De Leon has felt the pressure to go professional and be done with the politics and bureaucracy of the Olympics. The De Leon family lives in a tidy house in a Detroit suburb called Lincoln Park. Luciano De Leon, who has dedicated much of his adult life to coaching his son, works long hours in construction.
“When he was little, I’d get home from work, and he’d say, ‘Put your hands up like this,’ and he’d start punching them,” Luciano De Leon said in Spanish. “At first I didn’t pay much attention to it, but he persisted, every day, and hit me harder and harder. So my friend helped me find him a gym, and in two months, he was fighting in the open class.”
After Erick De Leon spent much of his earnings on coaching and traveling to tournaments, which includes transportation, meals and hotels, a little more money would not hurt the family.
“Construction — it’s too hard, and I feel bad for him,” De Leon said. “I wish I could just make him stop working. So every time I see him working, I got to work hard, too.”
De Leon said he knew that if he waited a little longer, achieved his citizenship and realized his dream of winning the Olympics, the rewards would be great. His coach Aguilar, who has been the strongest advocate for this course of action, agreed.
“Right now, there’s a lot of people whispering in his ear, Turn pro now, and we’ll give you $500,000 for 20 fights,” Aguilar said. “I said, ‘$500,000 is a lot of money, son, but let’s wait till after 2012.’
“Let’s say he doesn’t get a gold, silver or bronze medal, but is just an Olympian. That $500,000 will turn to $5 million, and it won’t be for 20 fights, but only 10.”
De Leon said he had no doubt that if he got his citizenship, he could win the gold for the United States.
“It’s just the gold that I want,” he said. “I don’t like losing.”