Fanning The Flames

Written by Troi Howell

Spoken by Steven Torres

“There’s a lot of heat that the fighters have behind them, and they bring it into the ring. That’s why they box… that's why I box.”

Steven Torres was in the middle of a grueling workout, beads of sweat rolling down his face as his gloved fists beat into the punching bag in front of him. The bag shook with the force of each punch, its movement providing a stark contrast to his solid demeanor. He was firm and controlled, each movement methodical and deliberate. Though he was only practicing, there was heat - a burning flame - behind each punch that he threw. 

Steven was born and raised in Reading, PA, and, like much of Reading’s youth, Torres has experienced the hardships that are characteristic of growing up impoverished. “Reading is tough,” he said. “We’re like, the number one poverty ridden city in America, or whatever they say. And that’s a fact. Growing up, we didn’t have a lot, you know?” Navigating life as an underprivileged youth is extremely difficult, but the barriers to success in underserved communities like Reading only increase once those youth reach adulthood. “Growing up was hard,” he said. “Still is.” 

Steven hadn’t participated in many sports before he stepped into boxing. In his youth, he, as with many other kids his age, was more interested in video games than in sports. “I used to play a lot of ‘Call of Duty’. Besides that, really nothing for athletics,” he said. “Boxing is really the first sport that I got into… and the last one.”  

He’d always liked fighting, and he said that the idea of regulated fighting is what piqued his interest in boxing. Torres started amateur fighting when he was 12. “I like fighting,” he said. “I love fighting.” Not street fighting, though - he liked the legality of boxing. “It’s just the fact of getting into the ring and hurting someone legally without having any [repercussions].” Though fighting was what drew Torres to boxing, he stuck with it out of necessity. “I was very overweight,” he said, which posed a challenge to him as an amateur boxer. “I was 410 pounds. I [was] just starting boxing because I [liked] fighting… but I was overweight.” His weight threatened his ability to excel in the sport, so he dedicated himself to losing it. “I had to lose weight really quick. I lost 150 pounds in six months, because I was really hungry, like right off-rip.”  

Steven was hungry for success, for greatness, in this sport, which he’d immediately fallen in love with. There was a drive, a passion, a heat behind him, and that was what pushed him to keep going. The first time he felt this heat was in the midst of his first sparring session, in which he sparred a boxer named Pepe. “I get in the ring, and we’re just teeing off,” he recalled, describing the intensity of the fight. “[We’re] fighting, we’re not even boxing no more. And I black out, so I’m still punching him. The bell ring[s], and I’m punching him, punching him.” It wasn’t personal, though. Torres said that boxers know that blacking out is a part of the sport, especially when you’re sparring. “That’s the stuff that people don’t see. When you [in] the real serious sparring sessions… Now you want to fight without your gloves,” he said. “There’s a lot of heat that the fighters have behind them, and they bring it into the ring. That’s why they box… that's why I box.” Boxing is a way to momentarily quench these flames, and provides boxers the opportunity to displace their anger and frustration in a productive, regulated way. “I have a lot of heat behind me in my life, outside the boxing ring. And so I bring it here. Whoever’s in the ring across from me? They’re gonna feel that. I’m gonna feel what they’re going through, too.” 

According to Steven, this heat isn’t necessarily a rage - it’s more rooted in pride. He compared it to baring your teeth when you look at something you dislike. “I kind of look at my opponent, or people across from me in the ring, in that same manner,” he said. “It’s not no hard feelings or anything. It’s just like, you can hurt me… and I’m not gonna allow you to hurt me. I’m not gonna look dumb in front of the people I’m around.” He compares a boxer's intense desire to protect their pride to a lion’s instinct. “I’m not gonna let [my opponent] beat me up in front of nobody,” he said. “Not even myself.” This heat is something that blazes within every boxer as soon as they step into the ring, and it is the fuel that urges them to keep fighting.  “[If] he hits me, Imma hit him back twice,” he said. “That’s how I see things, and that’s why I box.” 

Outside of the ring, though, boxers need other things to keep them going. Boxing - especially professional boxing - is more than simply fighting. Steven discussed his shift from amateur to pro boxing, noting that it feels more like business than it initially did. “Right now, it’s more work instead of fun,” he said. “The shift from amateur to pro is, it’s a lot more serious now.” As he made the switch from amateur to professional boxing, he undertook a lot of lifestyle changes. “I can’t do a lot of extracurricular activities,” he said. “Anything that [can] hurt my hands, or if [they could] get injured, [I] stay away from. So it definitely changed [those things] a lot, like what I can do outside the ring.” Training, too, is grueling, and not necessarily enjoyable. “I like fighting, I like punching the bag and stuff. But as far as training, and running, and doing all the extra stuff… nah. I don’t like it,” he said. “I like fighting. You throw me in the ring, anytime, with anybody, in shape or not? We’re fighting.” His love for fighting, along with his motivations outside of the gym, fan his flame and keep him going until the next time that he can get back into the ring.  

Outside of the gym, Steven’s desire to support his family fans his flame. “My brothers are in the streets,” he said. “My mom, she quit her job to kind of support me, [and] my brothers, and our dreams… my brothers just kind of went in a whole different direction.” In his early boxing days, Steven’s mother was his biggest supporter, dedicating time and effort to help him be successful in any way that she could. Steven recalled how she went above and beyond to support him when he wasn’t working. She had faith that he was going to not only be successful enough to elevate himself beyond the constraints of his circumstances, but also to elevate her. “She was like, ‘This is what you got to focus on. This is what I want you to do, because you’re gonna take me out of this situation [too],’” he said. “So she was working, working, working. Pretty much just supporting [me], and just buying whatever I needed. Coat, gloves, hand wraps, mouthpiece, whatever.” She supported him unconditionally and used any and all resources at her disposal to help him succeed. “She’s been through it all the way,” he said. “My mom wants me to kind of make it so that my brothers have somewhere to go when she goes. Right now, she’s at the point where she’s like… [entering] the next step for her. And when she’s not here, I have to go and take care of my family back at home too.”  

Ultimately, though, one of the main things fueling Steven is his own determination. “I want to be a world champion,” he said. “I know if I stay on track and everything, money will come, so I’m not even worried about that.” Though his success in boxing has the potential to benefit the people around him in many ways, it benefits him, too. “I’m really just looking for happiness,” he said when asked about what he expects to gain from continuing boxing. “This right here, this keeps me… this keeps me sane, it keeps me happy, it keeps me motivated. As long as I’m staying on track with this, and I’m working hard, I’m going to become the world champ.” 

Though a boxer’s own passion and determination play large roles in their ability to achieve a successful professional career, a strong support system is just as important. Star City Boxing is this support system for Torres - he feels that this gym is his second home, and that its members are his second family. “The coaches… they really want to see the best out of you,” he said. He feels as though everything that happens in the gym is rooted in love. “It's really love. It's really like, if you work, I'm willing to help you all the way.” This support runs deep, and this love is shown not only by the coaching staff, but also the owners, Alex and Monica Betances. “The thing about the people that own this place, Alex and Monica?” he said. “I see those people as like my second mom and dad.” He attributed a large part of his focus and willpower to them, saying that they keep him on track and focused. “They really, I want to say, saved my life.”  

His life is not the only one that Star City has saved. Torres said that Star City gives a lot of people, especially kids, an escape from street violence. “We’ve lost a lot of people, too,” he said, holding up a framed memoriam from Star City’s 2021 “Box Out Violence” event. He pointed out a few names on the list as people who previously frequented the gym. “[We lost them to] gun violence or just… being in the streets.” Star City provides Reading’s youth with a constructive alternative to the streets, thus shielding them from this violence. The prospect of a successful boxing career, along with the money, fame, and fulfillment that comes with it, gives the youth hope and direction. 

Steven’s success as a professional boxer provides Star City’s youth with something to aspire to. His career is blazing a trail for young boxers at Star City, showing them that, with passion and determination, they, too, can make it. He talked about how he’s become a role model in the gym, and how the kids almost see him as a celebrity. “A lot of people come up to me and it throws me off, because I don’t see myself [as] like, a big motivator or really anything like that,” he said. “But they’ll come, and they’ll talk to me. They’re like, ‘Oh, we missed you in the gym, man,’… and they’re like ‘I want to go pro like you’ and [all] this.” He also said that people sometimes bring very serious things to him, and share very personal stories, which he never expected. “It’s like, damn, these little kids really look up to me. A lot of the people in here really look up to me,” he said, disbelief woven through his tone. “I’ve never seen it that way. I don’t… I still don’t see it that way because I’m just Steven.” 

Though he doesn’t see himself through the same lens that the people who look up to him do, he feels as though he sets a good example. “I really pay attention to what I do,” he said. “I come to the gym, [and] I’m usually the first one in here and the last one to leave. So I guess that’s setting a good example. I’m working towards what I want, and I’m willing to put in extra time.” He’s not only consistent in his gym going, but is also known for having positive interactions with gym goers. “When I’m in here, I just have good energy. I’m talking to everybody, and motivating everybody.” 

This hunger, this fire, is what has fueled Steven through his career thus far. It is in his language, in his demeanor, and in every single thing that he does. It is not only behind each punch that he throws, but every workout that he does, every interaction that he has, and every decision that he makes. This flame bleeds into every person who he inspires, striking a match within them, too. As he achieves his goals, the fire grows bigger, stronger, and more intense. And he has no intention of putting it out any time soon.