Round two: Forced to find a new home, the Sarasota Boxing Club leans on supporters to forge a new path
Friday, November 6th, 2009Ivan Valencia, Nelson Oliver and Tommy Pettiti (left to right) help the Sarasota Boxing Club get its new location in order
The door to the old Sarasota Boxing Club sits wide open, but not much is left inside. When I was here in August the place crackled with the energy of boxers, spectators and families.
It’s still hot in late October, but quiet. With one of the boxing rings and all the equipment now gone, ambitious weeds grow in through the gaps of the plywood hanging over the glassless windows. Footsteps echo off the concrete floor, metal walls and tin ceiling.
An orchard of dust and debris is scattered about the far side of the building. Coach Harold Wilen stands in the center of it all, talking on the phone. His old blue Hyundai has broken down in front of the Sarasota Boxing Club’s new location on the corner of 15th and Lime Avenue — on the edge of Newtown. He needs a tow truck before the sun goes down, and he needs a good mechanic.
My phone in hand, I rattle off the number to Jay & Dean’s and he taps it in. I mention he should save it and he looks up at me with a sheepish glance: “I’m not sure exactly how.”
He holds his phone out and I bend down, walking him through the steps of saving a contact. He thanks me, smiles and says: “Robin Givens was in for a private lesson last week.” No doubt about it the man knows how to take a punch. And he looks like he has gone a few rounds; losing the place where he’s lodged his heart for the past decade and a half to a man he trusted.
On top of that, he’s losing an ex-wife to cancer at any moment, someone still so close to him, that I feel the pain in his eyes when he tells me. The man needs to get to Lakeland, where she’s dying, and his car is not up for the trip.
A white pickup climbs backward up the ramp to the door. It seems official. They are taking the toilet — the SBC board of directors took a vote. They lost some serious donations: a boxing ring and the main support beam for all of the heavy bags, $15,000 worth of material given by their landlord, Harvey Vengroff, and revoked with their eviction. Put it all together and what do a bunch of guys with ricocheting emotions and a truck full of hand tools do? They talk about taking the damn toilet and leaving the brush, but I can see that Coach’s heart isn’t in it.
“She refers to him as ‘Michael,’” Wilen says. It takes me a second to snap back: He’s talking about Mike Tyson, Givens’ ex-husband. I nod. “She’s doing a movie here in Sarasota,” he shakes his head and looks up at me. “She’s a soccer mom, a very down to earth lady.” The man shows genuine wonder at the events that transpire around him. His ex will have died within 24 hours, and he will have buried more than her remains in the coming week.











