`El Papoose' belongs in the ring
Ted Fox
You're not going to see him on HBO or a pay-per-view fight on channel 128.
You won't even see him boxing in Bengal Bouts later this week at the Joyce Center. You'll probably never get to see Edward Hernandez III, a Notre Dame junior from Lubbock, Texas, who sports somewhere near a 90-8 career record as an amateur boxer, lace `em up and step into the ring.
And that's a shame.
Hernandez started boxing under the guidance of his dad at the Boys and Girls Club when he was younger but didn't decide to devote himself to just one sport until his senior year of high school.
"I was seeing guys that I had fought when I was little, and they were doing really well," he said. "I was just like, `Man, I'm better than these guys.' I'll get a state championship. It's cool with me. That just motivated me, seeing other people that I knew that I was better than. It motivated me to see how far I could go."
There's probably a lot of guys out there who wish he hadn't gotten quite so motivated. The Texas State Championship in 1998 as a 147-pound fighter was a nice sidebar to being named the Texas Amateur Athletic Federation Athlete of the Year.
That was good for the 10 spot in the national rankings.
Hernandez describes himself as a finesse fighter, and prefers that style to that of fighters who just go out and wail away. His taste might differ from those of us who'll plop down the 50 bucks, buy (and then return) the big screen TV, and invite some people over to watch a fight.
"I think most people...[think]...when boxers move and throw straight shots, and move and throw straight shots...they're scared," he said. "Whereas they want to see people just slug it out, go toe-to-toe. That's no skill. That's just: `Let's see who lands...the lucky shot first.'"
To develop his personal mastery of this "hidden art" of boxing, Hernandez has watched the styles of many fighters, from the great Ali to many of today's best.
"I really like De La Hoya, and I really like Sugar Shane [Mosely], and Roy Jones, Jr. — those are all pure boxers. They don't depend on knockouts, they don't depend on just one punch. They're boxers. They can do it all," Hernandez said.
"They're smart fighters, but they're not afraid to stand in there and slug it out if they need to. And that's what I respect."
Given both the unique nature of the competition and training involved in boxing, the lessons learned between the ropes serve Hernandez well whatever he's doing.
"I would definitely say that the mentality in the ring of depending on myself, doing what I need to do to win the fight is exactly doing what I need to do to win in life," he said.
So with all his other accolades and his true understanding of the sport, it probably comes as no surprise that this fighter who likes to jab and weave won Bengal Bouts fighting in the 150 pound weight class as a freshman.
What might surprise you is that the boxer known as "El Papoose" isn't allowed to fight in Bengals any more.
"They told me that I was a liability," Hernandez said. "If someone were to get hurt while they were in the ring with me the question would arise that should that person even have been in the ring with me."
Speaking from the perspective of someone who's been around the ring his entire life, he told me that the real danger lies in having two inexperienced fighters who might get flustered and then try to retaliate when they get hit.
"Anybody that knows anything about boxing knows that there's definitely more opportunity to get hurt with two beginners than two skilled fighters," he said.
Furthermore, when he was fighting in the Bouts his freshman year, Hernandez says he was never told his performance in the ring was a cause for concern.
And in a way that wasn't cocky or self-absorbed but simply straightforward, he said: "I think part of the reason was, too . . . that they didn't think I could be beat. I think that was really unfair because they're the ones that should know what Bengal Bouts is about [raising money for charity], and it's not about winning or losing, and I think they lost sight of that."
I talked to Rich O'Leary, a member of the Bengal Bouts administration, and he told me that it was much more of a fairness issue than a safety concern that made for the final decision.
He echoed Hernandez's feelings that experienced boxers are much more controlled in the ring and said: "I have no doubt he wouldn't have gone to hurt anyone."
However, he described Hernandez as having reached a "level way beyond our boxing program," and in interest of maintaining the intramural nature of the program, the administration chose not to let him fight.
Despite not feeling they can allow him to compete, those running Bengal Bouts had nothing but good things to say about "El Papoose." Faculty advisor Charles Rice described him as a "terrific guy" who has been nothing but helpful to the program.
Still, like the former varsity basketball players who participate in Bookstore, Hernandez can't help how good he is, and rather than being angry, he seems more disappointed that he can't take part in this venerable Notre Dame tradition.
"It's a totally different situation when you go into a tournament," he said. "You're fighting your hardest to win, and benefit for yourself. Whereas this one [Bengal Bouts], you just go to fight, and hopefully people buy tickets to see you fight, and you're helping others."
"It's a title to show that you helped other people. When I go to a boxing tournament, I wouldn't say I was Bengal Bouts Champion. I mean, I'm not trying to put down Bengal Bouts, but the fact of the matter is this is a tournament that's fun, and it's for other people, and there's no other tournament like it, and that's why I'd like to be a part of it."
Trust me, Edward. A lot of us wish you were, too.
The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of the Observer
All Sports Stories for Tuesday, February 20, 2001
