The Border Heat Chronicles: Outside Looking in to “The Brotherhood” Part I.

You know fight fans, I can remember that at a very young age, my older brother Benito, and I would sit with our parents on Saturday afternoons and watch fights on cable television. I grew up on boxing and always loved the sport. In my teen years, I used to watch U.S.A. Networks Tuesday Night Fights boxing series, which always highlighted some great fights. On that cable boxing series, I witnessed Jorge “La Locomotora” Castro on many occasions lose every round of his fights, only to knock his opponent out in the ninth or tenth round. Towards my late teens, playing in a rock band and meeting girls took precedence, but I still always kept up with boxing. I was well into my twenties, when asked the question: “Why is it that you love boxing so much, but have never tried it?” I must admit fight fans; I did not have a response. I guess it was one of those things that I talked about all the time, watched as often as possible, but never had really considered taking up. All of this happened about two weeks before a New Year’s Eve. I thought about it for those two weeks and decided that one of my New Year’s Resolutions would be to learn how to box.

The big night came and went and, as soon as the next day began, I started to scout my local area to see if I could sign up and start my journey to fistic knowledge. It just so happened that my oldest brother, Gabriel, worked with a fighter, Sergio Reyes, Jr. I asked Gabriel if he could get me the 411 on the gym where Reyes worked out. The next day, my brother came back with an address and contact person, Felix “Gato” Garcia. Garcia was a former fighter himself who had a decent career, but never really moved up from the “club” circuit. All was in place, I now just needed to make my way to the location and sign up.

The following Monday, I drove by the boxing gym just to see what it looked like. At the time, the building had two stories and was a light grey color. I got off my vehicle and knocked on the door, but no one answered. I remember feeling nervous for some strange reason. I boarded my truck, and drove off. I am not sure why, but I just did. I remember reaching the end of the street and thinking, “I need to do this!” I turned back, parked right in front of the gym, and waited to see if anyone would arrive. About twenty minutes later, a small four door Dodge Neon arrived and, I immediately recognized the driver as Felix “Gato” Garcia.

I do not think that I mentioned it fight fans, but my father used to organize the security for most of the local fight shows held in a warehouse (no joke). My brother Benito and I would attend these shows and I remember seeing Felix Garcia, Orlando Canizalez (former IBF bantamweight champion), Gaby Canizalez (former WBO and WBA super bantamweight champion), and other local fighters go to war. So seeing Garcia, who fought as a flyweight, looking more as a welterweight was a little strange. Still, he was alone and walked into the gym. I quickly exited my vehicle and entered the building.

As I opened the door, I quickly noticed fight photos of Julio Cesar Chavez, Salvador Sanchez, and other Mexican legends plastered all over the wall. Also on there were pictures of Manuel “Shotgun” Gomez, Rodolfo “La Cobra” Gomez, Idelfonso Martinez, Sergio Reyes, and other pugilists that called this gym their home. Immediately after a small entering hallway, there is a twenty-foot boxing ring. In front of that were several lockers, all taken by professionals. Walking past those lockers would lead you to another room, which had all the heavy bags, speed bags, and double-ended bags to work on. One complete side was a large mirror so that pugilists could shadowbox. To the left of that huge mirror, were hanging racks with all of the sparking gear and jump ropes. Yeah, it really was breathtaking. There was a staircase at the end of the room, which led to the second floor portion of the gym, which had all of the weight training equipment, mats for abs work, and medicine balls.

As I walked back to the front room, Garcia met me halfway. “How can I help you?” He asked. I told him of my intentions to learn the sweet science, and that I was hoping he could guide me. We talked about the monthly fees, and the gym rules. He gave me the gym hours, and told me what I needed to get in the form of equipment so that I could get started. I paid my dues for the month and he gave me four gauzes for wrapping. As we sat there, several people started to walk in. I immediately noticed that everyone would shake Garcia’s hand, but would just look at me as if I was invading their turf. These individuals would immediately sit down and start to wrap their own hands to get ready for their work out. Here I was, Mr. Greenhorn, getting my hands wrapped and looking completely lost. I continued to focus on “Gato’s” instructions on how to wrap my hands, but could feel the sets of eyes mounting on me.

Once my fists were ready to get started, Garcia fitted me with some bag gloves and instructed me to get into the ring. I was standing there, looking down at the canvas as I felt like I was on the “Gong Show” with everyone focused on the new kid. Garcia put on some punching mitts (commonly referred to as “Panther” mitts), and came into the ring. He showed me the proper fighting stance (I am orthodox), and displayed how to move on your feet. Garcia then taught me where my hands should be at all times, and taught me the proper mechanics of throwing a jab and a straight right hand (it’s not as easy as it looks). He then put his mitts up, and asked me to throw a jab. I felt like everyone was looking at me so I took a deep breath, and “Crack,” that first jab I threw sounded so beautiful. Garcia said “good” and told me to do it again. I did and felt my confidence growing. “Gato” said, “now throw two jabs, and follow it with a straight right hand.” I did and loved the way the leather cracked as I landed all three shots hard. This went on for two, three minute, rounds and, just like that, it was over.

Garcia instructed me to go and do two rounds of each of the bags (heavy, speed, and double-ended) in the other room. I walked off the ring, and did as I was told. I continued to do two jabs, followed by a straight right-hand throughout my work out. Once I finished my bag work, I was told to do two more rounds of jump rope. I did my best, but I really looked like a complete amateur as I was jumping rope like a dork. I can only imagine how many people laughed at me. Oh well, I finished my work out and looked around. I noticed that everyone was talking with each other, but no one even said a word to me. I was not sure what to make of this, but I just packed my belongings, and made my way out of the gym. Garcia followed and told me that he hopes I come back. I told him I would, and thanked him for his time.

I boarded my vehicle and drove off slowly. This day had been bittersweet for me as I had actually signed up for a boxing gym and had done some work, but felt like a complete outcast. Little did I realize at the time that I had invaded the territory of “The Brotherhood” that is boxing, and the members are very particular about who gets to become part of the community. I had a long road ahead of me that was literally full of bumps and bruises, but I had made a decision to ride it out to the end.

Stay tuned fight fans as I give you more details about my journey to earning my membership into “The Boxing Brotherhood.”

Sergio Martinez can be reached at srg_mrtnz@yahoo.com