As Chase navigates through the crowd, shaking hands and putting the final touches on the night’s event, he tells me that he got his teeth knocked out at age 13, after a group of teenagers jumped him at a park in the Bronx. He removes a previously invisible retainer to reveal his false front teeth and the gap they fill. After that incident, Chase began fighting frequently, and he says that rather than escalating grudges, the matches often resulted in a sort of mutual catharsis. “ There’s actually real n-ggas out here that will fight you. And if they lose, they’ll still shake your fucking hand,” he says, moments before the opening bell sounds.
The night kicks off with a series of exhibition fights featuring children as young as 13. Fitted in sparring gloves and head gear, they fight with the ferocity and poise of men decades older. Minutes before the first fight of his life, a 13-year-old fighter tells me that boxing has given him discipline. “ I want to be a better version of myself,” he says. “ I used to have anger…and now I let that anger out in the boxing ring.” The DJ unleashes an air-horn sound in place of a round bell, and toddlers and gussied-up moms announce the rounds instead of ring girls. In the corner a local motorcycle club sells tacos, a vendor is raffling off sneakers, and there’s a stand selling branded weed.
Raji, a 20-year-old fighter whose ring name is iPunchHardAsShit, has made the trip up from Philadelphia to participate in a rematch against DaFreshPrince, a 35-year-old South Bronx native. Warming up the corner of the room, nestled between the taco stand and the bathrooms, Raji tells me that he found boxing at 19, after run-ins with the law nearly put him in prison. The discipline of the sport changed his life. “ When you start boxing, you will be training your stance over and over again. You are drilling your jabs over and over again. These are things you have to do not until you get it right, but until you perfect them, until you cannot get them wrong,” he says.
