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There was Light Flyweight Paul Gonzales, 20, for example, 106 Ibs. of controlled barrio macho with an elegant command of the ring. Favoring an injured right arm, Gonzales disposed of his Venezuelan opponent in the semifinals by scoring repeatedly with a classic left jab. He won his final in a walkover when his opponent, Salvatore Todisco of Italy, turned out to have broken a thumb in a previous bout. Ten years ago, Gonzales was running with the violent gangs of predominantly Hispanic East Los Angeles. Taken in hand by Sympathetic Cop Al Stankie, Gonzales emerged as a home-town hero who had gone for the gold, and won.
There was Meldrick Taylor, 17, who missed his high school graduation to make the team. Raised in Philadelphia, a city with impeccable boxing bloodlines (Smokin' Joe Frazier, et al.), Taylor is a good-looking fighter who can slip a punch, hit hard with both hands and move well. In his semifinal bout with Venezuelan Omar Catari Peraza, Taylor floored him in Round 2 with a straight right and went on to win unanimously. Nigerian Peter Konyegwachie gave Taylor all he could handle in a hotly contested final, but Taylor, surprisingly, won a unanimous verdict. His flamboyant teammate Whitaker, who sometimes mocked opponents, fought stylishly for his gold, easily defeating Luis Ortiz of Puerto Rico.
And of course there was Breland, who went into the tournament with the biggest reputation (a record five New York Golden Gloves titles, a major role in the 1983 film The Lords of Discipline). A lanky, 6-ft. 3-in. 147-pounder from Brooklyn's Bedford-Stuyvesant ghetto, Breland is blessed with an exceptionally long reach and a strong right hand. But he was lackadaisical and distracted in his opening fight against a brawling Canadian, and suffered the ignominy of a standing eight count before winning the decision. Breland flashed his old form hi stopping Mexico's Genaro Leon in the first round of the quarterfinals, and handily whipped Italy's Luciano Bruno to reach the gold-medal round. His 5-0 victory over South Korea's Young-Su An for the gold was something of a formality.
Breland's early distraction may have been caused by yet another controversy. During the competition, Breland, McCrory and Tate left the team's training site, supervised by U.S. Coach Pat Nappi, to work with Emanuel Steward, their private tutor from Detroit's Kronk Gym, home to pros like Thomas Hearns. Indeed, the aura of proto-professionalism hung over the ring throughout the week. Fighters met the press in postfight interviews attended by their agents. Instead of boasting of their knockout prowess, they projected their income for 1987; rather than discussing Olympic strategy, they talked about how soon a pro title bout could be arranged. And hovering at ringside were boxing promoters from across America, eager to capitalize on the fighters' rise to prominence.
