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Could I be a contender?

By Mitch Abramson

Gleason's Gym held try outs last Thursday and Friday with the promise of a six-figure cash prize and promotional contract with Oscar De La Hoya's Golden Boy Promotions for the winner of a round-robin tournament tentatively scheduled to air in the fall.

Casting directors from Lock and Key Productions are scouring the country in search of a dozen young fighters with whom the public will fall in love. Crowds of hopefuls stood on line outside the gym getting weighed in for their shot at stardom.

If this sounds familiar that's because DreamWorks is producing a similar show called “The Contender” with Sylvester Stallone and Sugar Ray Leonard, in which boxers will be filmed training, sleeping and fighting at a training camp.

Luis “Fountain of Youth” Ramos, a 120-pound slip of a fighter from Flushing, hopes to try out for both shows, even though he is not exactly sure what the producers are looking for.

Ramos is 10 pounds below the weight requirement and has never fought in the amateur open class division or in a four-round bout in the pros – prerequisites for the auditions.

At 43, he is twice the age of some of the contestants – all boxers must be at least 18 – and his boxing experience is limited to competing in “White Collar” boxing shows for fighters slightly below the amatuer level.

Ramos' skill level is questionable, but if the show is looking for underdogs with unlucky backgrounds, then Ramos makes Rocky Balboa look like a spoiled rich kid. His story is hard to swallow.

Ramos spent most of his childhood as a ward of the state, living in foster homes after his mother was murdered when Ramos was 11. He hasn't seen his father, who he remembers being in and out of prison, since 1982.

Unable to read, Ramos spent three years at Benjamin Franklin High School taking special education classes for which he never got credit and another three years at Miller Place High School on Long Island. He learned how to spell and finally graduated in 1982.

Today, Ramos works as a food server at the Department of Veteran Affairs in St. Albans. Known as “Pinkie” because of his pink boxing equipment, Ramos understands his chances are slim for making the show, but he has beaten the odds before, and he believes that being on television will prove therapeutic and somehow validate the struggles of his life.

“I really have nothing to lose. I'm an entertainer,” Ramos said before his audition last Thursday morning. “I'm not even an amateur and I have people taking my picture and kids asking me for my autograph during my shows. I've come a long way in my life. I've done miracles – learning how to read, for example. I would be so happy if I was picked to be on the show.”

Danny Perez is trying to make the transition from training in his basement in Ozone Park to starring on a national TV stage. A maintenance worker for the public school system, Perez, like Ramos, has virtually no boxing background, but he believes his hard-nosed approach will get him noticed.

“My chances aren't that good, but if I can just get through the preliminary stuff and fight someone in the ring, then I can show them what I can do,” Perez said.

Arriving at Gleason's Gym at 9 a.m., Perez hit the double-wind bag, the speed bag, the focus mits and the heavybag while being videotaped and graded on a scale of 1 to 10 by Harry Keitt, a trainer hired from Gleason's for three days, two for the auditions and one for the callback.

Keitt is best remembered for his role in “On the Ropes,” a documentary about the struggles of three fledgling boxers, and he knows about the allure of show business.

“Television is powerful because it celebrates people,” Keitt said. “It can take a regular guy and make him into a celebrity. The person who works at Burger King and the guy on 'Law and Order' are the same people. The only difference is that the second guy is on TV. TV makes monuments of people.”

As word spread through Gleason's that Fox was casting a boxing series, a number of trainers were skeptical of the show's intentions.

“It's all a big scheme to take the fighters,” said one trainer who wished to remain anonymous. “Why would I want to train a fighter and develop him only to have him taken from me by Oscar De La Hoya's company? What's in it for me? They don't care about the trainers.”

But Alex Mancera, a 25-year-old from Forest Hills who boasts more than 50 amaeur fights including a pair of Empire State Games championships and who recently dismissed his trainer, presented the reality show as a last-ditch effort for himself and for others to make inroads into the complicated world of professional boxing.

“I'm upset over the whole boxing business because I've been waiting a long time for an offer to turn pro and I haven't got it,” said Mancera, who was called back for Saturday's session and was put on tape for the producers and Golden Boy Promotions to decide if he qualifies for the show. “This gives me an opportunity. All I want is an opportunity.”

Reach reporter Mitch Abramson by e-mail at TimesLedger@aol.com or call 718-229-0300, Ext. 130.