So I moved up to Alexandria to live with him and train. Pop-Pop would come out to tournaments when he could to help out. And that was to be it: the start of my life as a full-time boxer.
Except I lost in the Golden Gloves tournament.
COURTESY OF SHAKUR STEVENSON
I hadn’t lost in three years. Not in Junior Worlds, not in the Youth Olympics.
But I lost. To another American boxer, Ruben Villa.
And at the first-round of the Olympic Trials qualifier in Colorado I lost again to Ruben.
I lost. To the same guy. Twice.
I finally picked up a win at another qualifying tournament in Philly. Ruben wasn’t there, since he had won the previous qualifier. Which meant, when we went out to Reno for the Olympic Trials, I had to win or I’d miss going to Rio and have to turn pro. Everything was riding on this tournament.
I made sure I was focused. After that loss in Colorado I had changed the background on my phone: It was a picture of Ruben winning.
Man, every time I looked at that photo I just thought of the comeback.
I was so zoned in, and in a weird way, I felt good, because in all my fights, I had never lost in Reno. I almost felt a little bit like it was my place to get things done. And for my first fight, I did.
Then it came time to fight Ruben again. And I swear to you, it was insane. There were two rings and two fights going on at the same time. But eeeeeeeverybody came around to watch Ruben and me.
So I got in the ring, and I ain’t gonna lie, I was nervous. But I just kept telling myself one thing:
It’s that time. It’s that time to be great.
All I needed to do was perform.
So we touched gloves. And that was it. I beat him. With all due respect, I beat him easy. He’s a tough fighter, but it was a 3-0 decision. I know, you’re expecting some long, dramatic, drawn out description of the fight. How we went back and forth until we could barely stand. But that’s not how it happened.
It was that time and I just wasn’t going to let Rio slip away.
But it was double elimination to get the spot on the Olympic team. So we each went through another set of brackets before we met again two days later.
I knew — if I beat him once, I could do it again.
And I did. I was going to Rio.
“Man, I know you’re going to win gold,” Ruben told me.
PHOTO BY FRANK FRANKLIN II/AP IMAGES
The best part 0f the Olympics? Pop-Pop, my dad and my momma all came too — it was the first time she’d ever been on a plane. And for my family and friends in Newark who couldn’t make it, I heard they’d set up a big screen at the corner of Broad and Market so they could watch.
I made my way through my fights to the gold medal bout. The guy I’m fighting, the Cuban, Robeisy Ramirez, I used to watch him all the time growing up. He won the gold four years earlier. If anything, I was excited to fight him. I couldn’t wait.
So I walk out to the ring and I’m smiling. Anytime you see me fight, I smile. I’m happy. I thought maybe the crowd would be neutral, you know? An American versus a Cuban. But nah, they went in on me.
I lost the first round. And I just thought, Daaaaaang, I gotta do something. I trained my whole life for this. I can’t let it go.
So I come back out for the second round, and switch my whole style up and make sure I’m scoring effectively. I moved my hands lower, so I could see a bit better and pick my punches better.
I went back to the corner knowing I’d won that round.
Now it’s 1-1, with one more round to go.
Not gonna lie, in my head, I’m thinking how exhausted I am, how much weight I had to lose, how tired I was.
The plan for the final round was to just keep him from landing punches. Just keeping it boring, really, and get the decision. Which pretty much goes to plan until the last 15 or 20 seconds — he threw a lot of punches, I’m just trying to grab him.
And then the final bell sounds.
So we’re each standing there and they tell us it’s a split decision.
OK, give it to me, give it to me.
“And your winner, out of the red corner…Robeisy Ramirez!”
I lost.
PHOTO BY DEAN MOUHTAROPOULOS/GETTY IMAGES
I thought I had it together when I went up for the post-fight interviews. I get to the camera and I’m good. I start talking for a second and I’m good. But then I look up into the stands. And I see my dad. I see my momma.
I see Pop-Pop.
And I just lose it. You’ve probably seen it already, but yeah, I just broke down in tears. I guess it just hit me all at once. All I could do in that moment was cry. And when I got back to the locker room, I didn’t want to to talk to nobody. Even Floyd Mayweather was on the phone wanting to talk to me.
I couldn’t speak to any of them. I just had to be alone and process.
And then the Cuban, he came up to me. That was nothing but love. He was telling me how good I’ll be, that I was the best he ever fought. I mean, this was a guy I really looked up to. He and I walked to the medal ceremony together.
Standing up on the medal stand, I felt like a failure. I felt like I had let everybody down.
When I finally saw Pop-Pop, he just told me how proud he was.
Then I flew home.
And I stopped boxing.
I got back to Grandpa Stevenson’s house in Virginia and I don’t know, it was like my motivation was gone. I couldn’t understand how you could work so hard for something, go through all that, and just lose at the end.
PHOTO BY KHRISTOPHER “SQUINT” SANDIFER
So for four months, I just spent time with family in Hampton. Didn’t even put on a pair of gloves, hit a bag or step into a ring.
Then I got invited to Andre Ward’s training camp in Oakland ahead of his fight against Kovalev last November. Now Dre is my favorite fighter, so boxing or no boxing, I was like, I gotta go.
As soon as I got there, it was like the switch flipped again. I don’t even know how to describe what it’s like watching a boxer like that just spar. The skill set, the drive — I mean, he’s really taking it to these big dudes.
I wanna be just as great as Andre Ward, I told myself. I could be this good. I know I could be this good.
We spoke a little bit about the fight in Rio — he told me how he watched the fight and thought I got robbed. And you know, it was good hearing that, but I had to start owning what it was: I lost. Forget what anybody else thinks or says, I lost.
Here’s the other thing, I think a lot of people nowadays look at a career like Floyd Mayweather’s, see him going undefeated and think a loss is the biggest thing in the world. I used to think that too.
But it’s a part of the sport. So I’m learning to stop tripping over it. Besides, if you look at guys like Sugar Ray Leonard, or Ali, they lost and were still the greats, right?
So when Dre talked to me about going pro, I knew it was time and I was ready. Leading up to my first pro fight, I changed the background on my phone again.
http://www.theplayerstribune.com/sha...boxing-newark/
Comment