It was a long fight for Yoko Gushiken to find life after boxing. Or rather, to find his life was all about boxing, after all.
It took his induction last month into the International Boxing Hall of Fame — an honor only two other Japanese have received — to allow him to reconcile with who he truly is.
Three decades after retiring from the ring — often feeling lost and depressed — and after a secondary career as a TV comedian, the former WBA light flyweight champion now accepts his status as a boxing great.
Photo: AP
“I saw how splendid boxing was in this world,” said the 60-year-old Gushiken, often clenching his fists to emphasize his points.
He appeared a little embarrassed when asked about his TV appearances, particularly on quiz shows, in which he portrays a disarming error-prone character, a gimmick designed to draw laughter from the audience.
Many younger Japanese know him only as a TV personality, oblivious to Gushiken’s boxing legacy: He defended his belt 13 times, still a record for a Japanese fighter.
He never had it easy, from the beginning. He grew up on Okinawa, the southern islands occupied by the US after World War II until 1972. When he traveled to high-school tournaments on the main islands, he had to bring a passport. However, his pride in his Okinawan roots and his determination to fight for his people drove him.
He grew up on Ishigaki, one of the farthest islands, where “we didn’t have anything” — no cars, no clothes, no food, he said.
“We would get sneakers maybe once a year. That was it,” Gushiken said in an interview this week at his gym, dotted with colorful gloves, dangling sandbags and a poster of Oscar de la Hoya.
A fledgling boxer was wrapping his tiny hands by a humble ring.
For years, the island had TV reception only for the single public broadcaster. His hometown could not even watch his fights.
Even after turning professional, he was so short of money he worked at a pork-cutlet restaurant while he defended his title five times. Gushiken is still grateful to the restaurant owner for giving him that job.
Shinkichi Kinjo, 70, Gushiken’s high-school boxing coach, said he knew right away from the fiery way Gushiken looked at him that he was special. However, he had hopes for sending him to college and maybe the Olympics, and was disappointed when Gushiken turned pro, without going to college.
“But he told me he would make up for it by becoming a champion,” Kinjo said proudly, in a telephone interview from Okinawa.
Gushiken reigned as champion for nearly five years, recording eight knockouts, until he was defeated in a 1981 bout, sadly, on Okinawa, where he remains a hero.
“Gushiken was a pressure fighter,” said Ted Sares, a boxing fan and writer, who long pushed for Gushiken’s induction into the Hall of Fame, insisting Asian fighters were under-represented. “By employing constant pressure, he forced opponents into mistakes.”
Back then, title fights went for 15 rounds, although fortunately, he knocked out almost every opponent and rarely had to go the distance. The referees did not stop fights quickly, and he fought four times a year.
Younger boxers have technique, Gushiken said, but many lack what is most important in the making of a champion.
“They aren’t hungry,” he said in his soft voice. “It’s all about what’s in your heart.”
A slight, but sprightly man who sports curly hair, Gushiken made it clear he works as a tarento, or “talent,” as Japanese call actors and comics, to spread the word about boxing.
He also needs the TV appearances to raise funds for his Tokyo boxing gym, which he has run for 20 years, to get his boxers fights that may lead to his dream to produce a world champion.
However, Gushiken did little to draw attention to his Hall of Fame induction in Canastota, New York, on June 14, including from the Japanese TV shows he frequents.
He went quietly, flying at his own expense, booking his own hotel.
And so he was stunned when he was thronged by US fans, who somehow found out where he was staying, and were waiting in the lobby to get his autograph — not on pieces of paper, but on boxing gloves, his photographs and even a pamphlet from one of his fights.
When he went on a victory parade down the streets, he heard someone yell: “Yoko,” he said, tears brimming a little.
“I connected with all the boxing champions from around the world,” he said of the four-day festivities. “We became one.”
He dined at a table with two of his biggest heroes, Ruben Olivares and Pipino Cuevas. He was impressed by the fun personality of fellow inductee Riddick Bowe.
And he was not a bit nervous when he made his speech, saying in English: “I will never forget this wonderful day.”
It was so much fun, he would move to the US this minute, if only he could speak English a little better.
“All my suffering in my boxing life, all of it, suddenly turned into joy,” Gushiken said, as though still in a dream. “It was all good.”
US track and field athletes have about four dozen pieces to choose from when assembling their uniforms at the Olympics. The one grabbing the most attention is a high-cut leotard that barely covers the bikini line and has triggered debate between those who think it is sexist and others who say they do not need the Internet to make sure they have good uniforms. Among those critical or laughing at the uniforms included Paralympian Femita Ayanbeku, sprinter Britton Wilson and even athletes from other countries such as Britain’s Abigail Irozuru, who wrote on social media: “Was ANY female athlete consulted in
Four-time NBA all-star DeMarcus Cousins arrived in Taiwan with his family early yesterday to finish his renewed contract with the Taiwan Beer Leopards in the T1 League. Cousins initially played a four-game contract with the Leopards in January. On March 18, the Taoyuan-based team announced that Cousins had renewed his contract. “Hi what’s up Leopard fans, I’m back. I’m excited to be back and can’t wait to join the team,” Cousins said in a video posted on the Leopard’s Facebook page. “Most of all, can’t wait to see you guys, the fans, next weekend. So make sure you come out and support the Beer
Former US Masters champion Zach Johnson was left embarrassed after a foul-mouthed response to ironic cheers from spectators after a triple bogey at Augusta National on Friday. Johnson, the 2007 Masters winner, missed the cut after his three-over-par round of 75 left him on seven-over 151 for 36 holes, his six on the par-three 12th playing a big role in his downfall. Television footage showed Johnson reacting to sarcastic cheers and applause when he tapped in for the triple bogey by yelling: “Oh fuck off.” Such a response would be considered bad form in any golf tournament, but is particularly out of keeping
The sacred flame for the Paris Olympics was lit yesterday in Olympia, Greece, the birthplace of the ancient Games, in a ceremony inspired by antiquity and marked by messages of hope amid multiple global crises. “In ancient times, the Olympic Games brought together the Greek city states, even — and in particular — during times of war and conflict,” International Olympic Committee president Thomas Bach said. “Today, the Olympic Games are the only event that brings the entire world together in peaceful competition. Then as now, the Olympic athletes are sending this powerful message — yes, it is possible to compete fiercely