Cuban boxers who defected to debut at Hard Rock
To follow their dream of glory in the ring, three Cuban boxers had to
turn their backs on family and homeland. They have no regrets.
Posted on Sat, Oct. 20, 2007
BY MICHELLE KAUFMAN
mkaufman@MiamiHerald.com
Cuban boxer Yan Barthelemy took a deep breath, squeezed his Olympic gold
medal into his palm one final time, then surrendered it to the man with
the wad of cash. The 2004 Olympic champion treasured that medal, a shiny
symbol of his life's work and greatest achievement, but he valued his
family more. Five thousand dollars goes a long way on Havana's black market.
A few months earlier in 2005, he had sold his Olympic participation
medal for $30 to buy six pounds of pork and other delicacies for his
mother, father, four siblings and girlfriend. His teammate, Yuriorkis
Gamboa, sold his Olympic gold to throw a birthday party for his
1-year-old daughter.
''It's very sad, but a lot of Cuban Olympians sell their medals,''
Barthelemy said. ``The circumstances force you to make sacrifices.''
The biggest, most painful sacrifice came last December, during a
training trip in Venezuela. Barthelemy, Gamboa and 2004 Olympic
heavyweight champion Odlanier Solis sneaked away from the team hotel,
slipped into a friend's car and bolted for Colombia, seeking asylum and
the economic freedom to become pro boxers.
The 10 months since have been trying times for the trio. There were
tears, scary moments and lonely stops on their circuitous journey. But
no regrets. They signed three-year, seven-figure deals with a German
promoter in March, launching pro careers in Hamburg in April. On Oct.
30, Barthelemy and Gamboa make their U.S. debuts at the Seminole Hard
Rock arena in Hollywood.
They are expecting an emotional evening in front of a partisan
Cuban-American home crowd that will include Gamboa's wife and young
daughter, who defected to Miami earlier this year.
''I feel marvelous,'' Barthelemy, a light flyweight, said after a recent
workout at Miami Fight gym in Doral. ``It's like a little piece of Cuba
here in Miami. My grandmother and uncle are here. I have a lot of
friends from Cuba who are here. . . . It's been a very positive
experience, much easier transition than I expected.
``In Cuba, they paint Miami out to be a monster. They tell you . . .
people won't care about you, especially if you're black. But it's been
quite the contrary. People here have been great to me, both black and
white. It almost feels like home.''
Almost. Barthelemy misses his family terribly. His mother's birthday was
last Saturday, and he longed to give her a hug and a kiss. He recalls
standing on his balcony in Hamburg earlier this year, listening to Los
Van Van, weeping because he felt so far away from the island and people
he loves.
'Now, here I am in Miami, so close to Cuba, 35-minute flight, 90 miles,
I can almost smell it, almost touch it, and yet, I can't give my mother
a hug. I can't visit my brothers and sisters or my girlfriend. And they
can't visit me. It hurts so much. I tell my mom how frustrating it is .
. . and she says, `Some day, some day, son.' And I ask, 'What day? When?
What time?' ''
Nevertheless, Barthelemy, Gamboa and Solis say they made the right decision.
''After winning every major amateur title, I knew that I only had one
last challenge, and that was becoming heavyweight champion of the
world,'' said Solis. ``I feel a loss leaving my country, it might be
years before I see some of the people I love, but this is the best
decision for us and our families in the long run.''
Added Gamboa, ``We didn't like the way things were going with the Cuban
team, and we knew this was the only way to reach our dream.''
Like many Cuban boxing greats, they had won just about every amateur
title there is to win, and were eager to prove the Cuban boxing mystique
can live on in the pro ranks. There have been 32 Cuban Olympic champions
since pro boxing was banned on the island in 1962 (and there might have
been more had they not boycotted in 1984 and 1988), but the question has
always been how those amateur champs would do as pros.
Cuban boxers who defected before -- Joel Casamayor, Ramon Garbey, Jorge
Luis Gonzalez, Dyosbelis Hurtado and Juan Carlos Gomez -- had mixed
results. Casamayor, the 1992 Olympic champion, did well. He defected
with Garbey in Mexico weeks before the 1996 Atlanta Olympics, and won
the WBA junior lightweight championship in 1999.
This trio of Cuban Olympic champions hopes to follow Casamayor's lead.
Solis, 27, nicknamed ''La Sombra'' (The Shadow), is a three-time world
amateur heavyweight champion and was 227-14 before turning pro. He won
his first four fights as a pro this year, three by knockout.
Gamboa, 25, was nicknamed ''El Ciclon de Guantánamo'' (the Guantánamo
Cyclone) because of his quick hands. He is also 4-0, including three
knockouts.
Barthelemy, an Olympic, World and Pan American champion, is 2-0 as a
pro. His Miami-based trainer, Roberto Quesada, who came from Cuba 20
years ago, says it is only a matter of time before the trio competes for
professional world titles. He has worked with Barthelemy and Gamboa this
summer.
''I've seen a lot of world champions, and my experience tells me that by
no later than early 2009, perhaps earlier, Yan Barthelemy will win his
first world championship,'' Quesada said. ``He has more than 400 fights
under his belt, he is in great shape, he is disciplined, and he is
hungry. Gamboa is also on the right track. All three guys have unlimited
potential.''
They just need to build endurance and adapt to pro-style punching.
Olympic boxing matches consist of four two-minute rounds, and points are
awarded for clean blows rather than physical harm to the opponent.
Quesada said the recent defectors must progress from four-round pro
fights to six rounds to eight rounds before they are ready to compete
for world belts. But he is confident they can do it.
''Muhammad Ali, Sugar Ray Leonard, Oscar de la Hoya -- they were all
Olympic champions and became great pros, so why not these Cubans?''
Quesada said. ``Fidel Castro didn't invent boxing. There were great
Cuban boxers before Fidel -- Kid Chocolate, Kid Gavilan, Florentino
Fernandez -- and there will be great Cuban boxers after Fidel.''
Two more Cuban boxers attempted to defect in late July while in Brazil
for the Pan American Games, but they were detained and repatriated.
Guillermo Rigondeaux, the two-time bantamweight Olympic champion, and
reigning welterweight world champion Erislandy Lara were in talks with
the German company that represents Barthelemy, Gamboa and Solis, when
things fell apart.
According to reports, Rigondeaux had his car taken away upon his return,
and it is unknown whether either boxer will ever fight again for Cuba.
Barthelemy, Gamboa and Solis said their families have not suffered
repercussions from their desertion.
But the rash of defections led the Cuban boxing federation to pull out
of this month's amateur World Championships in Chicago.
That news saddened Barthelemy.
''Unfortunately, the situation in my country is unjust, but I love my
country and wouldn't change my nationality for anything,'' Barthelemy
said. ``I'm not talking about the government, I'm talking about Cuba.
I'm Cuban 100 percent. Very proud to be Cuban. Every time I stand up in
the ring, I'm representing my colors, my country, my people, not the
government, but the people of Cuba. I want to win for them and they
motivate me.''
He relied on that motivation during the most tortuous times of their
journey.
The three boxers spent a lonely Christmas in a Medellín suburb,
''shedding tears together,'' wondering if they'd see their loved ones
again, if they'd get their work visas, if -- heaven forbid -- they'd get
sent back to Cuba.
They wound up spending three months in Colombia, working out immigration
issues with New York-based attorney Pamela Falk, and negotiating their
first professional contract with the help of Miami-based agent Tony
Gonzalez, who had met Gamboa in July 2006 at the Central American and
Caribbean Games in Colombia.
''I was there scouting talent, and I told Gamboa that some day I'd love
to represent a Cuban fighter,'' Gonzalez said. 'Gamboa told me, `You
will. Just not now.' In December, the phone call came. Those guys went
through a lot at first, but the worst part is over. If they stay
disciplined and don't let the money get to them, they can go far.''
The boxers had hoped to sign with a U.S. promoter and be living
full-time in Miami, but the best offer came from Germany.
''I learned a lot there, but never felt comfortable,'' Barthelemy said.
``The climate and language were hard for me. The people are not as warm
as here. It's a different culture, not what I'm used to. But I did what
I had to do for my career. Now, I'm in Miami, my second home. One step
at a time.
'Some day, when I have more money, I'd like to find my gold medal on the
collectors' market and buy it back. I still have all my other medals
back in Cuba, but that one will always be the most precious.''
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