By Ryan Maquiñana

Washington, D.C., is split into four quadrants, with the Southeast sector being arguably the toughest.

“Naylor Gardens is where I’ve grown up, and I can’t picture myself anywhere else but D.C.,” the welterweight prospect said ahead of his fight on Saturday’s Amir Khan-Lamont Peterson undercard against winless Terrell Davis. “Growing up here, I had my first Toughman contest when I was six, and I knocked out a kid who was 10.”

“We have 80-something kids in our gym in Southeast,” said Buddy Harrison, his father and trainer.  “Some are so poor they have to share mouthpieces.  With the way tickets have been affordable for this fight—like $25 apiece—we’re going to get all those kids out there to watch Dusty.”

Now 17 years old, Harrison (2-0) is technically the youngest pro fighter in America, but it’s a distinction he feels is irrelevant when it comes to determining whether his qualifications for stepping in the squared circle with grown men sometimes twice his age.

“A lot of people say growing up in a rough neighborhood can hurt you, but in some ways, I think it’s helped me,” he said.  “I’ve been sparring pros for a while now.  When it comes to boxing, I don’t really get nervous.  My dad was more nervous than I was for my first fight.  My mom actually started crying when she saw the other guy at the weigh-in, because he was really cut.  But I just treated it like another day at the gym.”

Such a feat is even more astonishing when considering that in 2010, Harrison was an amateur vying for a gold medal in a national tournament.

But unlike Jose Benavidez Jr., the teenage wunderkind who went pro two years ago after winning the National Golden Gloves, young Dusty—whose nickname has been passed down from his grandfather—wasn’t even competing in the Open Division.

In reality, Harrison was fresh off a second triumphant run at the National Silver Gloves (for kids ages 10-15) before the senior at Thomas Stone High School retired his amateur headgear and singlet.

“We have a bag he used to hit when he was one or two, and I used to have Dusty circle and throw punches when he was three,” Buddy recollected.  “By the time he was 11, he had 100 amateur fights and 197 before he turned pro.  And I’ve been lucky.  He’s never had a standing eight count or been down his entire career as an amateur.  I ain’t seen him get his bell rung.”

“I think I’ll be able to deal with it fine,” his son replied.  “I hope it doesn’t happen soon, but I think I’ll get my hands up and get myself together if it does.”

That chin has yet to be tested, but so far, the Harrisons’ decision has been the right one, as Harrison has turned in two eye-grabbing performances this year, one against Alphonso Alexander in June and the other against Trenton Titsworth (a tall 147-pounder who was once deducted two points for kissing Jesse Vargas on the break) in July, while winning every single round on the judges’ cards in back-to-back unanimous decisions.

At 5’11’’, Harrison already enjoys a physical advantage.  Watching him reel off lead left hooks and mixing his attack, while feinting and keeping his striking distance intact puts his ring IQ on display as well.

“He’s looked good in his first two fights,” Buddy said.  “He’s been putting his punches together well.  Again, I’m not hoping he gets caught, but I am hoping he shows that if he does, he can roll with it and deal with it.”

Ever the perfectionist, Dusty, a lifelong basketball fan, draws some parallels between his style and one of his favorite superstars.

“Kobe [Bryant]’s such a smart player,” he said.  “I’d like to box the way he plays basketball, with minimal mistakes.   The thing I hate the most about boxing is missing a punch.  I don’t waste that many punches.  A lot of people tell me I should be busier, but I don’t like to waste my shots.”

The results from these two outings were enough to pique Golden Boy’s interest, and one month later, he would be released from his contract with Prize Fight Promotions and sent on a flight to San Jose with his father to appear on the Marcos Maidana-Robert Guerrero undercard.

But Harrison & Son would never leave the ground.  Guerrero would injure his shoulder a week before the fight and the card would be canceled.

“The wait was long, and longer than I expected,” he remembered.  “I stayed in the gym and it wasn’t fun, but I was hoping something would come up so I continued to work hard.  Plus being at home, I love being so close to home and having the gym full of people.  It makes me work harder sometimes.”

If you stay ready, you don’t have to get ready.  In Harrison’s case, a serendipitous choice by Golden Boy to stage Khan’s last 140-pound title defense in our nation’s capital meant that the kid wouldn’t have to travel cross-country for his next adventure.  After all, the challenger for the main event was literally one door down.

“Lamont and Anthony [Peterson] live next to our apartment,” Buddy said.  “Dusty talks to them now and then, and I know [their trainer] Barry Hunter very well.  It’s great that Dusty’s going to be on the same card as them.”

The two red stripes and three red stars emblazoned on Harrison’s white trunks represent more than a fashion statement.  With the rich pugilistic history in the Beltway, he is unabashedly proud to be from The District.

“When we went down to Memphis to fight under Prize Fight, they thought it would be better to build him by saying he was from Memphis,” Harrison said.  “But Dusty refused.  He said, ‘No way.  I’m from Washington, and I’m representing Washington.’  The D.C. flag on the trunks and uniforms for the corner are his idea.”

Examine these trunks a little more closely, and a Puerto Rican flag is featured; it's a tribute to his mother, Lynda Hernandez, as well as a rich boxing heritage that is reflected in his attitude toward the sport.

“She's Puerto Rican, and I can speak some Spanish,” Dusty said.  “My hero is Felix Trinidad, and Trinidad fought everyone, and that’s who I want to be like one day. I’m really not afraid to fight anybody.”

Still, all three commissions in the D-M-V area (D.C., Maryland, Virginia) wanted this “Beltway Boricua” to act his age and initially denied him a license to fight despite his two pro fights in Mississippi.

“I guess I was upset, but it gave me more time to spend in the gym,” Dusty joked.

Eventually, the powers that be relented and Harrison was granted a waiver to fight on Saturday.  When Golden Boy CEO Richard Schaefer confirmed the news that his son’s name would be alongside the Peterson brothers and rising heavyweight Seth Mitchell, Buddy had to choke back his tears before getting back on task.

“The next day we got to the gym and I had never seen Dusty hit the heavy bag so hard in my life,” Buddy said.  “He sparred DeMarcus ‘Chop Chop’ Corley for a little bit months ago, but now he’s sparring this pro Andrew Farmer from Virginia and an amateur named Renaldo Gaines.”

Harrison came in at 144 pounds for today’s weigh-in, two less than Terrell Davis (0-4), another D.C. native with a famous football name whom Dusty is expected to handle with ease.

Already mobbed at school as a local celebrity leading up to the scheduled four-round clash, one would worry about this brief taste of fame spoiling his hungry heart.  He insists that he’s mindful of his fledgling place in the sport’s food chain.

“Some of the teachers bring cameras and ask me to sign stuff for them,” Dusty said.  “But it doesn’t bother me.  I just go to school, hang out with friends, play basketball, and be a regular kid.”

“It’s hard with the father-son relationship sometimes,” his father reflected. “But he’s the nicest kid in the world.  He’ll carry your groceries or mow your lawn to help you.  That’s the type of kid he is.  I’m not too worried about it getting to his head.”

A lifelong sneaker aficionado, one of Harrison’s pastimes entails standing for several hours in line to buy the latest pair of basketball shoes (his favorites being the Jordan XIIs).

“I’ll wear them sometimes, but I don’t wear them too much, because I don’t want to get them dirty,” the hoops junkie said of his hobby.  “It’s actually kind of like a relief to help me get my mind off everything else.”

“Any money he gets his hands on from boxing, he pours into getting these rare edition shoes,” his father said in disbelief.  “I’m not too fond of that.  A lot of people are getting shot over shoes and guarding their buddies with pistols to make sure they don’t get robbed of their shoes.  It’s no joke where we live.”

The street life is something Buddy knows too well.  After serving a 10-year sentence for armed robbery, Dusty’s birth in 1994 forced him to reorganize his priorities.

“I got in trouble and went away for awhile,” Buddy recalled.  “Right after I got home, he was born.  A lot of people to this day tell me that I got him off the streets, because we lose a lot of a good fighters to drugs and crime, and that I saved my son.  The truth is, he saved me.  After he was born, you couldn’t pay me to take any chances.  You weren’t taking me away from my son.  Maybe we saved each other.  I don’t know.”

“Even though they’re divorced, my mother and father have told me I’ve helped their lives,” Dusty said.  “My mom ended up getting a job as an office manager where she’s worked for 13 years, and my dad stayed out of trouble.  I don’t see taking care of them and my two sisters down the road as a responsibility more than I see it as motivation.  One of them just had a kid, so I’m an uncle now.”

This Saturday, Dusty’s task will be to leave a lasting impression on the paying customers at the Walter E. Washington Convention Center—one compelling enough to induce them to get into lengthy lines at the box office in the future—not for the latest footwear, but to watch him headline a homecoming fight of his own one day. 

Ryan Maquiñana is the boxing correspondent at Comcast SportsNet Bay Area, a member of the Boxing Writers Association of America, and Ring Magazine’s Ratings Advisory Panel.  E-mail him at rmaquinana@gmail.com, check out his blog at www.maqdown.com or follow him on Twitter: @RMaq28.