From the shadows: Boxing club succeeds where other sports have struggled

DELHI -- In his line of work, in his choice of hobby, Joey Cardenas witnesses more bad than good.

Real-life tragedy -- bullets and busts, gangs and violence, drugs and teen pregnancy.

And then there's the recreational hazards, timid by comparison, but heart-wrenching still.

If you thought being a deputy sheriff and school resource officer in Delhi had its challenges, try being a coach on this Shanks Road campus.

Cardenas coaches an eighth-grade baseball team staring up at a high school boys athletic program free-falling back toward them.

The football team has lost 24 straight games, a nasty streak spanning three seasons. Its last win came on Oct. 12, 2007 against Waterford, 26-22.

The basketball team was competitive this past winter, finishing 12-15 under first-year coach Rob Pecot, but had just seven total wins in the previous two years.

And the baseball team entered this spring with just one win in its last 43 games.

From the fall of 2007 to the spring of 2009, Delhi's three major boys sports were 11-93 collectively.

But this isn't a story about America's three biggest sports, or their lack of success in this small Valley pocket.

This is about a group of 35 kids, from parts of two counties but mostly Delhi, finding hope and salvation, discipline and structure in the sweet science.

Boxing, an activity not sanctioned by the California Interscholastic Federation or offered at other school sites across the county, is fast-becoming a source of pride and a beacon of hope in this sports wasteland.

The Delhi boxing club-Merced County Sheriff's Activities League meets four times a week, Monday through Thursday, on the Delhi Unified School District grounds. For more than two years, its participation levels have rivaled the varsity football team and outshone any program within the city limits.

Inspired by Cardenas, and brought to life by the Sheriff's Activities League, DUSD and an after-school grant, the boxing club is home to 35 active participants, two teams and one common goal:

To be champions.

"C'MON, champ."

Omar Garcia, a journeyman boxing coach from Atwater, stalks the room, hands folded behind his back, barking instruction in English and Spanish to a group of 10 students.

Some older.

Some younger.

Some boys.

Some girls.

This is the club's "B" team -- those not yet licensed through USA Boxing or not quite ready to compete at shows.

Sweat drops in this small room, sliding off brows and down walls, but the hands never droop.

Garcia won't let 'em.

In lines of five, boxers pound a punching bag along the north wall -- left, right, left, right -- rotating every 30 seconds.

A boy no older than 10 grabs one bag with both hands and then leans into it, steadying it for a boxer twice his size.

Those not pounding the bag, or holding it, shadow box in line, bouncing on the balls of their feet, throwing their hands at air.

Perpetual motion keeps them off coach's radar.

"C'mon, champ," Garcia says each time he senses a boxer slowing down.

The walls are decorated with ringside banners, and near the door, inspiration hangs in a frame: Rocky, in a sweatsuit and beanie.

Originally, this room was built as a kitchen, intended for middle-school lunches, and if you look close, you'll find that many remnants remain.

A sink sits in the corner, used only to fill water bottles. Cabinet space is used not for canned goods but hand wraps and head gear.

"When I got here, this program looked like Disneyland," Garcia said. "Kids hanging around just punching bags. I came in and gave it more structure.