The Suburban Boxing Gym-

Mike Tyson watches with that thousand-yard stare/sneer as a coach works with a youngster on basic offense and defense. Next to him Ali stands victorious over the sprawled Sonny Liston, an artist's rendition of that image that surely would have gotten away were it not captured by the fortuitous closing of a shutter lens. On an adjacent wall, a fading poster recalls an all-too-soon forgotten "Battle of the Rising Stars" some of whom set as quickly as they rose. Many gyms have similar wall coverings, fight posters that inventory the careers of the boxers who train there. At older gyms, similar sheets paper the walls, the color of the original paint revealed only where time has rolled back the corners of the posters.

The lack of posters indicates that until recently, this gym was a two-car garage in the sprawl that is suburban Los Angeles. The owner, an amateur boxer and coach, converted the parking spaces to a workout area so he and others would have a place to train and where our hard-learned knowledge could be passed along to the youngsters. The gym features all the essentials--a basic ring, heavy bag, speed bag, medicine balls, and gloves and headgear hung on the wall. The electronic ringing of a Ringside personal timer keeps the activity on the appropriate two- or three-minute interval.

A bike ride or run through the neighborhoods of this affluent community reveal a number of heavy bags lonely hung in garages and in back yards. These heavy bags purchased at the local Big 5, Sportmart, or Oshmanns indicate the desire for the youngsters to learn at least the rudiments of boxing. Equally as important, it shows that the parents think it might be a skill important enough to be encouraged. After all, a bag in a garage takes up x square feet that might otherwise be occupied by the family Lexis or Mercedes. Parents surrender this space tacitly encouraging their children to develop boxing skills on an inanimate object while recoiling in horror at the thought that the kids may then want to practice these skills with animate objects, namely other kids. But then boxing has always been a sport of paradoxes.

Ordinarily, suburban boxing gyms come and go and much like martial arts studios usually have a short life expectancy. People who work out at these clubs like the experience of something different. Some try it and stay, many move onto something else. They don't see the activity as a way out of dire economic conditions. In the suburbs the way out is well planned and can take one of several well marked routes. Rather, for these men and women, boxing becomes one of many activities for that signal a shared commitment to an active lifestyle and often an attraction to adventure sports such as surfing, diving, mountain biking, skiing, and snowboarding.

When a boxing gym was not available, we made due with heavy bags at athletic clubs and did our sparring and focus mitts drills in garages, aerobics rooms, racquetball courts, backyards, or the practice field at the university or community college, or the grass play area tucked behind the local elementary school. (In California, few homes have basements.) Initially at the public venues, people gave us some questioning looks while others asked how they could participate. After a while, we just became part of the scenery, like the group of us that practiced kickboxing behind the school gym. The local constabulary didn’t hassle us because they saw that the activity was structured and supervised.