Wednesday, June 06, 2007

And in this Corner . . .

I am leaving, I am leaving,
but the fighter still remains.
Simon and Garfunkel, “The Boxer”


Carlos Levy’s opponent is on the canvas—the victim of a flurry of three commanding punches: an uppercut, a left jab, and a right. But Carlos, rather than feeling elated, is merely relieved.

“I was worried at the time,” says Carlos. “The entire first round I hadn’t landed a solid punch, and, to be honest, I wasn’t sure I could go the distance because I was getting pretty tired.”

But when the referee’s count reached ten, the splendor of having won made Carlos involuntarily raise his arms in triumph. And what made that victory particularly satisfying was that his opponent—the champion of the province of Veraguas—had been taunting him all throughout their brief, yet intense, fight.

“He kept talking trash, saying that I didn’t know how to fight and that he was going to knock me out. His insults made the win that much sweeter. It felt good to see him laying flat on his back.”

This was Carlos Levy’s second amateur match. He knocked-out both opponents.

It was to be his last fight, as well.

Like the immortal Rocky Marciano, Carlos Levy retired undefeated.

When asked why he stopped fighting, Carlos replies, “If the matter were up to me, I’d continue boxing. I love being in the ring. I feel at home there. But my mother asked me to quit. She was afraid that I’d get hurt. And I had no choice but to respect her wishes.”

What makes Carlos Levy different from other Panamanian boxing hopefuls is that he hails from the comfortable, upper-class neighborhood of Marbella.

Carlos is a seventeen year-old high schooler who’s about to complete his junior year at Balboa Academy, one of the more prestigious schools in the country. He’s bright, funny, easy-going, and his good looks are reminiscent of a young Tony Curtis.

So how did Carlos end up in the boxing world, training twenty hours a week in the Gimnasio Rockero Alcázar—a gym located in Curundú, a neighborhood afflicted by poverty, high crime, and gang warfare?

“I fell in love with boxing through an uncle. He’s passionate about the sport and trains with boxers just to keep in shape. When I was six years old, he took me to see a fight in Colón. Earlier in the day, there were some boxing matches involving kids. Without my knowledge, my uncle signed me up and put me in the ring. It was a terrifying experience and my opponent beat me badly.”

Regardless of his traumatic first exposure, Carlos was hooked.

“Boxing has always fascinated me, so when I turned sixteen, I decided to give fighting another try.” With his uncle’s support, Carlos began to train in earnest for his return to the ring.

“I soon learned that getting ready for a fight is terrific exercise. And today, even though I’m no longer competing, I spend fourteen hours a week in the gym, training and sparing. Boxing has taught me to take care of my body. I don’t drink; I don’t smoke; I don’t use drugs. And I have no respect for boxers who do.”

Carlos’s uncle is an important financial supporter of the Gimnasio Rockero Alcázar, so it’s thanks to him that Carlos is able to train under Rigoberto Garibaldi, the most highly regarded boxing instructor in Central America. Garibaldi has guided several boxers of the region to world titles.

“Garibaldi is an inspirational trainer. I have tremendous respect for him and for the work he does. And although I’ve stopped fighting, I hope to continue training under him for many, many years because thanks to him I’m learning a lot about the art of boxing.”

In spite of the huge gap in social classes, Carlos feels at home with the other boxers, all of whom are of Afro-Antillean heritage. And they affectionately refer to the well-off kid from Marbella as “La Esperanza Blanca.”

“The guys are cool. They treat me like they treat any other boxer. The only real difference between us is that they’re poor. It hurts me to see them struggling just to get by, so I help them out a little whenever I can.”

And in spite of Carlos being only seventeen, he’s already managing the career of another young boxer: José “La Mosca” Castro. He believes that this young man has the talent and the discipline necessary to fight for a world title someday.

“So far, José’s only had one professional fight, which he lost. But I believe in him, so I’m helping to finance his career. At this point it’s not costing me all that much, really—about fifty balboas a month. But as José advances, the costs—as well as the potential earnings—become greater.”

When asked if he will remain involved in boxing, Carlos answers, “Yes. Definitely. Boxing is in my blood. But from now on I’m only going to be involved in the business end. Someday, I hope to help a few talented Panamanian boxers become world champions.”

And Carlos Levy, this golden contender who retired undefeated, is working hard to fulfill this dream.