The daily Nebraskan. ([Lincoln, Neb.) 1901-current, March 14, 1986, Page Page 9, Image 9

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    Friday, March 14, 1986
Daily Nebraskan
Page 9
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who will fight whom. Several trainers and
fighters peer over their shoulders.
Emery walks onto the stage and to the
table. Nelsen, already at the table, says,
"We've only got four fights."
"Jesus Christ, we got to have fights, Randy,"
Emery snaps back.
Nelsen doesn't want to put any of his
inexperienced fighters in the ring with
veterans. "I want to keep my kids' heads on
their shoulders."
The men bargain until they find a fight for
almost all the boxers, most of w hom came
from Omaha, Crotton and Norfolk for a chance
in the ring.
Some aren't lucky. Nissen's erstwhile
opponent has lost weight and will fight a non
championship bout at 156 pounds. At tonight's
tournament, there will be no championship
fights, only champions.
Nissen can't even get an exhibition bout
in his weight class. He will fight a
teammate, Kent Gerwick, who weighs
almost 15 pounds less than him.
Nissen says he is disappointed, but he
doesn't let it keep him down. He and Gerwick
dance in a mock fight on the stage.
"Let's choreograph this thing," Nissen says.
"You throw a right hook, I'll throw a left. It'll
be 'Rocky II' all over."
It's eight o'clock.
The announcer calls the first fighters to the
gloving table, where they'll get headgear
strapped on and gloves tightly tied. A card of
11 fights has been set. The first four will be
exhibition bouts between young fighters from
the Santee Reservation Boxing Club.
About 175 spectators sit in the bleachers
suspended over the gym floor. Most UNL
fighters sit on the edge of the stage, watching
the ring, talking, joking, trying to quiet the
butterflies.
Tonight's fights may be their first and last
in Lincoln at least as UNL boxers. Nissen,
Emery and Nelsen are worried about the state
of the sport.
Nelsen says boxing is dying in Lincoln. He
can't get enough fighters to join the UNL club.
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Counterclockwise from top
left: Nissen puts teammate
Kent Gerwick on the ropes;
fighters and trainers set up
the ring; Kim Lambrecht sleeps
while her boyfriend helps tear
down the ring; Nelsen takes
Medlin's gloves off after the
last fight; a fighter's hand is
wrapped before a fight.
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Forty or 50 may come to practice once or twice
before quitting, but only five boxers have
worked out regularly.
Nelsen, who runs a real estate management
firm, has coached the team in his spare time
for about 10 years and says 1985-86 has been
the worst. He says groups such as the Jaycees
don't sponsor fights any more.
"This year we're suffering because we've had
two years now that there are next to no
fights." That makes it tough to recruit young
boxers, he says.
"With no publicity or place for kids to fight
... so they can be seen by their peers, there's
not much gratification for them."
Negative publicity from the American
Medical Association, which wants to ban
boxing, also has hurt recruiting, he says.
The sport's tarnished image may be keeping
some fighters away from the ring; however
Nissen, a junior accounting major, has never
been intimidated by boxing's reputation. He
fought about 45 bouts in the Junior Golden
Gloves between the time he was 13 and 16. He
returned to the sport when he came to UNL.
Some friends don't share his enthusiasm.
"They say, 'What do you want to go and get
yourself hit for?' " Nissen says. "But it's not
what you see on TV. It's fun."
He says amateur boxing is safer than
professional. He never feels threatened, and he
likes the competition and training.
He agrees with Nelsen that the sport is
dying in Lincoln.
"At the beginning of the year lots of people
show up, but it's a long season," he says.
"When you don't have any fights it's tough to
stay with it. It takes some desire to train and
train and never get to fight."
Emery, too, says boxing has fallen on hard
times. He thinks the increase in high school
sports has drawn fans and potential fighters
away from the ring.
"It used to be boxing was one of a few
options," he says. "Now there's a sport for
every size."
But Emery is confident the sport will
survive. It gives kids discipline, he says. If he
has anything to say about it, Lincoln boxing
will live on.
"Next year we're gonna kick this thing off."
It's nine o'clock.
The Santee exhibition fights are over.
UNL has seven fighters in six fights. Three
fights will be mere exhibitions a chance for
UNL's champions to show their skills. Carl Von
Rein, UNL's super-heavyweight, and Medlin
will join Nissen at the Midwest championships
unchallenged.
The UNL boxers watch their teammates
crawl between the ropes for their fights one at
a time.
Nelsen crouches on the steps to the ring,
jumping in to give advice and water when the
bell sounds at the end of each round.
It's 10 o'clock.
John Moorehead, UNL's club president,
is barely winning his fight with Jeff
Larchick, who had finally decided to pay for
the ABF card.
Larchick nearly knocks Moorehead out with
a right in the second round. Moorehead
staggers but stays on his feet until the bell
rings.
He walks to the corner, Ms face swollen and
red. Blood streams out of his nose. Nelsen
jumps into the ring.
"You're out there taking turns," he shouts
into Moorehead's face. "He's gonna come out
strong for 15 seconds, and he's gonna knock
you out, or you're gonna survive. Now are you a
survivor or a winner?"
Moorehead nods.
Larchick does come out strong, and he
nearly knocks Moorehead out again, but
Moorehead stays upright. And each time he
gets close enough, he grabs Larchick and digs
at his ribs with hard right uppercuts. He lands'
a solid right in the solar plexus and Larchick
lurches to the ropes, winded.
Moorehead wins the decision.
After the bouts are over, the Southeast
District champions crawl through the red,
white and blue ropes to be photographed. The
announcer asks for volunteers to help tear the
ring down.
The stands clear. Fighters loosen the ropes
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and roll up the freshly stained canvas.
It's 11 o'clock.
Nelsen says the team did well, but he still
doesn't have high hopes for the future of
boxing in Lincoln, especially at UNL.
"I may go on to something else," he says.
"I've done it for 20 years. Maybe I've put in my
time."
This story was written in conjunction with UNL's
depth-reporting course, taught by Al Pagel,
Gannett professional lecturer.
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