Houma baking business targets gluten-free market
July 25, 2012
Gym coach knows about Olympic gold
August 1, 2012
When 17-year-old Kennedy McKinney enlisted in the Army out of a Memphis high school, he thought he was walking away from his first love – boxing.
“Memphis ain’t got no professional boxers,” McKinney remembers saying to himself. “You see these guys making $500 or $600 a month fighting once every couple of months … You can’t make no living like that, so I had to do something. I decided to move on. It was tough, but I had to do it. I had to get rid of her – the love of my life.”
But five months after his “nasty breakup” from the sport, which he had been “obsessed with for more than five years,” she re-emerged into his life.
And the beginnings of an Olympic tale were born.
With 15 minutes to go in his lunch break on a typical Army day, the mailman walked into the room and dropped a magazine onto a table.
The gift wasn’t meant for McKinney personally – it was for everyone on the base.
Regardless, it excited him like a “Christmas gift”.
“He throws a magazine on the table and it had two boxers on the cover,” McKinney says. “So I’m saying to myself, ‘What the hell? They have boxing in the Army?’ I read through the magazine and it was a story about this guy stationed in Fort Hood, Texas, who had just won the national title.
“So I called my boxing coach and begged him to find someone with contacts with the Army Team and its coach, Kenny Adams. … It was a long shot, but I had to try. At that moment, it was like I forgot that I ever quit. I was a boxer again.”
Click. Clack. Crunch.
Click. Clack. Crunch.
McKinney still remembers the crunch his sergeant’s boots made on the earthen ground on his Aberdeen, Md., base.
On most occasions, his walk toward McKinney meant trouble.
But this particular time – a month after McKinney saw the magazine – it was different.
It was the break he was looking for.
McKinney’s local boxing coach had gotten in touch with Little Rock trainer Ray Rodgers, who knew Adams.
He was about to be a boxer again.
“He told me, ‘Your order is coming in, go pack your s—, you’re leaving in the morning, you said you wanted to go box, right?’” McKinney still says with a smile. “So I’m like what? Hell yes. The next morning, I’m on a flight going to Fort Hood, Texas. That was the first good break of my life. That day started it all for me. … Without that day, nothing that came later would have ever happened.”
A shoe-in for the Olympics?
Joining the Army Team is nice – but McKinney was still many twists and turns away from Olympic competition.
The kid knew how to fight – that was a given.
After walking into a boxing gym by accident as a seventh-grader (he was spying on his older brother), McKinney pounded a hard bag and fell in love.
He deposited countless hours in the gym and had perfected his craft.
“I figured I was too small for football. In eighth grade, I got knocked out on the field one day, so I said f— it, I’m done with this s—,” he explains. “In basketball, I wasn’t tall enough. In baseball, I wasn’t strong enough. I could catch the ball and I could run, but I couldn’t hit that damn ball for a home run.
“But boxing? I could do this s—. See in boxing, you fight guys your own size, so I said to hell with it, I won’t play anything else. I’m only going to box. So that’s what I did. Every single day after the eighth grade, it was only boxing. I boxed every day from the seventh grade, eighth grade, ninth grade, 10th grade, 11th grade and 12th grade – that’s what I did – I boxed.”
On the Army Team, his labors proved fruitful.
His first fight, he took Johnny Tapia – the No. 1-ranked amateur in the world.
The fight was in Tapia’s home town of Albuquerque, N.M.
McKinney knocked Tapia out – cold.
“I was just fighting,” he says. “I didn’t know who that was. I didn’t care.”
He did the same to many others along the way, winning All-Army for two-straight years and finishing as the national runner-up in the 112-pound class.
On paper, he was a near-lock to make the Olympic team. But to do so in reality, he had to beat his most fierce opponent – himself.
Lesson learned,
earning an Olympic spot
McKinney couldn’t handle his new-found popularity.
While preparing for his third nationals tournament, he was arrested for being in possession of a stolen stereo.
McKinney says he bought it hot from a friend and didn’t realize it was stolen.
Two days after realizing the purchase was a financial mistake, McKinney says he tried to pawn the stereo for money.
“No more than 5 minutes after I pawned it, my buddy’s friend came tell me not to pawn it because it was hot,” McKinney says. “So I went get it out of the pawn shop and changed the serial numbers on it and took it to a different pawn shop.
“They caught me. I was found guilty. I ended up being sentenced to 63 days in the jail on the base.”
Sitting in seclusion in a military jail cell, McKinney knew his Olympic dreams were over and that he had broken up with boxing for good.
“I did my time, and I had to get off the post, so I’m like ‘What am I going to do?’” McKinney says. “It was over. There was no way in my head at that time that I could make up for the mistakes that I had made.”
He was released from jail and was ordered off the base.
He was no longer a member of the Army Team.
He needed a miracle to make the Olympics.
Faith, fate lead McKinney
to South Korea
“Ring, ring, ring,” shouted McKinney’s apartment phone.
It had now been five and a half months since McKinney was released from jail. He had two weeks left on a six-month lease.
“I was about to be gone for good,” he says.
“Ring, ring, ring,” the phone continued.
“I don’t want to talk to anybody,” McKinney remembers yelling at the phone on this particular day. “I let the son of a b—- ring.”
Seven rings. Eight rings. Nine rings.
Still no answer.
The relentless caller on the other end of the line wouldn’t give up.
Finally, McKinney picked up the phone.
It was Adams.
He told McKinney that he forgave him for his misdeeds. In turn, he also offered the boxer a lifeline. If he would travel to Russia and win a tournament there, he would win an automatic spot to Nationals.
He did.
He won.
He was going to Nationals.
While there, he placed in the Top 2, earning a spot in the U.S. Olympic Trials.
“After all I had been through, I wasn’t going to let this go to waste,” McKinney says. “I liked to drink. I liked to smoke cigarettes. While I trained for the Olympics, I stopped. It was all business.”
Reporting to Colorado Springs in peak condition for the trials, McKinney fought like a savage.
Up first was Sergio Reyes – no contest.
Second was Michael Collins, a fighter who owned a prior victory over McKinney. Not this time, as McKinney won a close decision.
Next was Jemal Hinton – another victory.
It now came down to just one fight – a rubber match with Collins.
The winner would be an Olympian.
“Coach Adams just told me, ‘Mac, you’ve got to pressure this guy,’” McKinney remembers. “‘Pressure, pressure, pressure, pressure. … knock his ass out.’”
He didn’t knock Collins out, but he did score a sound victory.
McKinney was going to the Olympics.
Underdog wins Gold
Every Olympian is assigned a number – it makes for easier record keeping.
For most, the number is routine.
For McKinney, it was his ticket to gold.
Prior to departing for South Korea for the 1988 Summer Olympics, the American Olympians gathered in Los Angeles for a sendoff party.
After the party was over, McKinney went to sign-in and receive his number.
He peeked into his envelope.
What he saw was destiny.
“The number in my envelope was 0316,” he says beaming like a child. “The whole time when I got it, all I was saying was ‘316, 316, that’s like John 3:16 out of the Bible.’ … When I got that number, I knew it was a sign from God.
“I knew this gold medal was mine. Hands down. Nobody is beating me over there. This is God’s way. I knew I was destined to win this gold medal because God gave me this number. There was no way I was going all the way to South Korea and losing after that.”
Now on a spiritual mission, McKinney couldn’t be stopped.
He dominated all four of his Olympic bouts.
In the gold medal fight, he blasted Bulgaria’s Aleksandar Hristov to win the gold medal.
To this day, he is the only American to ever win gold in the bantamweight division.
McKinney still cries when discussing the adrenaline rush he experienced when he realized he was the best in the world.
“I jumped up in the air and … I was just so happy,” McKinney remembers with tears beginning to gather in his eyes. “It was just something I had worked so hard for … and it was just like a relief off your back. It was just a joyous time for me. My family was proud of me. Memphis was proud of me. Everybody was proud of me. I had pride for really the first time in my life.
“I remember being on the podium and I’m on top of everybody. … and the national anthem is playing. It’s something you can’t explain or describe. It’s the most unbelievable feeling you’ll ever experience.”
McKinney turned pro after the Olympics and became a three-time world champion.
Today, he trains fighters in the Tri-parish area.
No matter where his story takes him, he says nothing will ever top his Olympic experience.
“Never,” he says sternly. “I won the championships and I made the money and all of those things are able to be taken from you. The Olympic gold and the pride that comes with it – that is with me forever. That is the single greatest feeling I will ever experience in my life.
“That is something that I will never forget. That was the greatest day of Kennedy McKinney’s life. Nothing can compare to that feeling when you’re standing above everyone. You’re atop the world.”
Former world champion and local boxing trainer Kennedy McKinney shows off some of his title belts. McKinney also has an Olympic gold medal on his resume.
