THE SQUARE CIRCLE

And how would he do against Sugar Ray?

By Tanya Whiton

Ever since the letters on my “I Love Marvelous Marvin Hagler” key chain faded, I’ve longed for a trip back to the ring. As a kid, I spent Friday nights watching boxing on TV with my dad, a fightin’ man (on the golf course). This was strange for a couple of reasons: First, I’ve always been hopelessly, pathetically unathletic. Second, I’ve always despised televised sports. But boxing, somehow, riveted me — one on one; no bewildering ball to kick, throw, or hit with a stick; just two guys beating the stuffing out of each other. My father says he always sensed I had a bloodthirsty streak. But it’s more than that. Boxing seems to me to be one of the purest sporting forms — simple, brutal, beautiful.

So I was delighted at the opportunity to talk with Portland Boxing Club’s Bob Russo — founder, coach, and promoter of the club — about their upcoming bouts. On May 18th, at the club’s outer Forest Avenue venue, Russo will pit Portland’s boxers against manager Claude Messier’s Montreal team of pugilists.

“I look at their list (of fighters) and it makes me nervous,” Russo says. “They’re tough opponents.” Russo discussed the difficulty in making matches for boxers ranging from open-class fighters, who can box anyone in their weight class, to newcomers like Liz Leddy and Scott Perry. The less experienced the fighter, the more elements there are to consider when putting someone in the ring. Age, weight, and experience factor in. In Leddy’s case, sex does, too. Women boxers can only fight other women, and there just aren’t many female fighters on the amateur circuit.

In the open-class bouts, local hero and 2001 New England Heavyweight Champion Anthony Reed will be up against the same Canadian guy he whupped last year. Also fighting will be ladies man Lee Lamour, a Regional Golden Gloves Light Heavyweight Champion. “Have you seen him?” Russo asked at the beginning of our interview. “He’s built out of stone. He’s a fantastic physical specimen.”

Lamour came in to the gym just as Russo and I were wrapping up. “Who’s your favorite fighter?” he asked me, and I clutched for a minute. Posters of boxing greats layer the concrete walls of the Portland Club - Ali, Trinidad, and, well, Marvelous Marvin Hagler.

“Marvelous Marvin,” I confessed, repressing the urge to tell Lamour about my key chain: a red plastic heart with white letters, just big enough to fit in the back pocket of my Jordache jeans.

“Yeah? Well now it’ll be me. I’ll be your favorite fighter,” he replied.

All depends on how you do in the ring, buddy. All depends on how you do in the ring.