Posted 2:54 am Friday, February 03, 2012
Seasoned, Novice Boxers Hit Ring For Golden Gloves Tournament
Tyler Paper Video
By TIM MONZINGO
Staff Writer
TROUP -- Behind the off-white double doors of the Byron Payton Gymnasium and Community Center in Troup is a Spartan atmosphere in every sense of the word. Rows of metal folding chairs are stuffed into one corner and bleachers occupy little space along two walls, crowned in photographs and posters.
Staff Writer
TROUP -- Behind the off-white double doors of the Byron Payton Gymnasium and Community Center in Troup is a Spartan atmosphere in every sense of the word. Rows of metal folding chairs are stuffed into one corner and bleachers occupy little space along two walls, crowned in photographs and posters.
The only decorative pieces are dusty old photographs of former boxers and champions, some stretching back into the early '60s, flags and posters from matches long since past. A stereo and electronic buzzer, both of which work throughout the night, are the only artificial sound.
The rest is all function.
Monday through Friday, from 7 until 9 p.m., more than two dozen athletes fill the gym's open spaces. A few family members and spectators take up posts on the bleacher-lined walls.
For two hours, coach Shawn Vascocu, the grandson of a legendary Olympic-class trainer, and Shawn's wife, Candice, lead this company of boys and girls, ranging from their early teens into their 20s, through a grueling workout to train them into boxers.
Of the faces gathered in the barn-like gym, some are on the verge of becoming professional contenders. For some just starting out, the 72nd East Texas Golden Gloves Tournament that began Thursday, pitting 132 contestants from the southeast against each other, will define their futures.
"It's the biggest tournament in Texas, in any state," Vascocu said.
Round One: The Coach
As a child, Shawn said his grandfather, Edward "Lucky" Vascocu, would drag him out of bed, dropping him five miles away from home in the early morning light to run home before school.
Training wasn't an option; it was a requirement and dictated his outlook through most of his life, he said.
"I've trained very hard my whole life. I had to really," the 36-year-old trainer said. "If I can overcome that, working hard while everybody else is asleep, then I can overcome just about anything."
Lucky Vascocu was an internationally known boxing coach, who mentored at least five Olympic trial competitors, including 2005 Olympic competitor Joe Villa. In 1991, he was the head coach of the U.S. Pan Am preliminary boxing match against the Cuban team.
Lucky passed that legacy to his son, who passed it to Shawn.
"My dad fought from the time he was 5 years old, and I think he had his last fight when he was 28," he said. "I started fighting when I was 8 and I fought until I was 25."
When a back injury forced him to leave the ring, he took up his grandfather's mantle and began training fighters in the Troup gym, built in his grandfather's honor.
Stepping from between the ropes to behind them has not been an easy transition, he said.
Watching a fighter take hits and miss opportunities outside the ring was tough.
"My first couple of years were hard. I was more emotional, as far as jumping around in the corner and stuff," he said. "The referees had to tell me to sit down in the corner sometimes."
The competition, adrenaline and focus of a fight and the sport are drug-like, he said. It's something, he said, "in your blood."
"You have to be around it," he said. "It's hard to explain unless you've done it."
He said that of the starry-eyed kids who walk through the doors, very few succeed.
To be a great boxer takes both talent and training, he said. One in five trainees who join the gym might have it. The others will fall by the wayside.
Each candidate has to be measured and his abilities weighed. Their misconceptions about the sport and the amount of work have to be stripped away.
They have to be broken down and rebuilt in a series of rounds that pick apart their shortcomings and weaknesses, he said.
"I'm very honest with everybody," he said. "If there's a fight and it's close, I tell them, 'I don't think you won that fight and this is why.'"
That honing process, though, makes the boxer. And the boxer can make the coach, which is Vascocu's dream ultimately: to rise to the top.
For now, he works at Ozarka Waters in Wood County and coaches at night. His wife, and his assistant coach, trains boxers as well.
With several of his fighters planning to turn professional this year, the duties will split between the two. Shawn will focus on the professionals for upcoming fights, and Candice will take over the amateurs.
He hinges his hopes of being a professional coach on his fighters.
"It only really takes one to make it to that next level, the HBO level. That's what I want," he said. "That's all I want to do."
Round Two: The Professional
At first glance, Shamarian Snider's 6-foot-2 frame and 200 pounds of muscle is deceptive. The 25-year-old Tyler boxer's looks leave the impression that he would hit with the power of a hammer and the agility of an anvil.
Despite his size, Snider, known in the ring as "Dancing Duke" or "Duke Too Pretty" is lithe when the gloves come on.
That is part of his strength when squaring off, Vascocu said.
"He is really, really fast for a heavyweight," he said. "(His opponents) can't figure it out, it's so fast."
That speed comes primarily from Snider's first passion: dancing.
"My mom said I've been (dancing) since I was in her stomach," Snider said with a grin. "It pays off now."
At Tyler Junior College, he studied ballet, jazz, modern and hip-hop dancing. His dancing is in part responsible for the cracked white boxing gloves he now wears.
In the past, fights were picked over the burly dancer's affection for such a delicate pastime -- fights Snider wouldn't shy away from, he said.
"I did a lot of fighting in the streets, which I didn't like to do," he said.
In college, he was invited to visit a boxing gym with a classmate -- and Snider the dancer met Duke the boxer.
The gloves fit.
"I found my swag," he said. "I found myself."
Snider's natural athleticism is both a blessing and a curse, Vascocu said. He knows he's a capable and naturally talented athlete. The challenge is keeping that honed through constant training.
Snider trains regularly, both in and out of the gym, he said.
The Friday before the Golden Gloves' opening bell, Snider showed up in Troup as usual, having exercised and trained most of the day, he said.
Even exhausted, he floated around the ring, ducking blows and delivering iron strikes while flitting sparrow-like around the ring, his body seldom where his opponent's fists stopped.
His favorite part in training is plugging in his headphones and plugging away at phantom challengers.
Music is an integral part of him, not only when training but when in the ring. Before each fight, he starts with a prayer and a song. The song, the beat, continues until the ring of the last bell.
"If you can't have rhythm in that ring, you're not going to go anywhere," he said. "Your rhythm is everything."
In the two years between the red-white-and-blue ropes, Snider has hooked, uppercut, jabbed -- and danced -- his way to the top of the Texas' boxing pecking order. Going into the East Texas Golden Gloves, he is No. 2 in the state, according to an email from Craig Jones, the East Texas Golden Gloves Association secretary and treasurer.
Last year, Snider was runner-up for the championship. He lost in a split-decision to Ladell Williams.
As sure as the staccato patter of his feet in the ring, Snider said this year will be his year.
"I'm going to win," he said. "I can't see me losing."
This weekend's bouts will be the final ones for Snider as an amateur. In April, he turns professional.
He said his dream, for now, is to be a new Muhammad Ali -- the top dancing boxer in the world.
There's another dream though, he said.
"When I quit boxing, I still want to have my sense," he said about a distant retirement. "My dream is to get a dance studio."
As Snider's career as an amateur boxer prepares for the final bell, others under Vascocu's care are ready to hear their first.
Round Three: The Beginner
"It's so quiet right now," Megan Ybarra said Wednesday night, standing on the floor of The University of Texas at Tyler's Herrington Patriot Center with her mother, Karen Ybarra.
The first time she hears the buzzer in a boxing match will be Saturday.
The Robert E. Lee freshman strapped on a pair of boxing gloves for the first time eight months ago.
Her first competition match is highly anticipated among the spectators hovering along the bleachers at the Troup gym. Bulldog is just one of the terms heaped on the 14-year-old's shoulders.
When sparring, Megan delivers hits with speed that would make a hummingbird blink.
Her interest in the sport only began a year ago.
"In eighth grade, I kind of got in a lot of trouble," she said, smiling and showing a mouthful of braces.
It was an eighth-grade coach who noticed Megan's talent and suggested boxing to her.
Megan's mom, Karen, admitted it was kind of strange to see her little girl take an interest in such a violent sport as boxing. Still, the gym environment and the family-like atmosphere have made a noticeable difference in her daughter.
"I've seen a change in her," she said. "She's a lot more cooperative and a lot more confident. It's good for her."
After eight months in training, the idea that her little girl is a contender is still kind of bewildering, she said.
"It's still so new it almost feels like a whirlwind right now," Karen said.
That sentiment may not be unique to Megan's mother.
In August 2009, the International Olympic Committee Executive Board announced the creation of a boxing division for women. Boxing previously was the only sport of the summer games without a women's division, according to The International Boxing Association's website.
When she recently realized the possibility, she said her goal in life was set.
"I finally figured out what I want to do," she said. "I want to be in the Olympics."
Megan's Olympic aspirations, even newer than her interest in boxing, just add to the flurry for Karen.
She said she didn't expect Megan's steps into the ring to develop this far, having come to dominate the majority of her life outside of school. Still, she said she's never been one to discourage any of her children.
"I don't believe in holding them back," she said, adding that she puts great faith in Vascocu to keep her daughter safe and prepared in the fights. "I would love to see her go. I want to see her excel."
Dreams of being an Olympic fighter take a backseat for the teenager this weekend, though. For now, she is focused on the challenge ahead: winning the Golden Gloves.
Snider said the first fights for everyone are nerve-racking affairs, and it is no different for Megan. She knows seeing the filled seats of the 2,300-capacity gym will weigh on her nerves. All she can do, she said, is all she can do.
"Once I get up in the ring, I'm going to give it all I've got," she said. "Even if I lose, I'm going to strive to be better."
