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ALAs, a Breath of Fresh Tropical Air for World Boxing Straight from the Island of Cebu (Part 2 of 3) By J.V. Tuazon, DPT aka 'The Fight Doc' PhilBoxing.com Fri, 24 Aug 2007  We shook hands and immediately connected. Perhaps it was because Mr. Aldeguer and I had many things in common: Mr. Aldeguer has a half Chinese wife, I have a half Chinese girlfriend; Mr. Aldeguer is a hugely successful business man, I am an aspiring, young business man; So on and so forth. Was it really because of these common threads? I think not. We probably clicked right from the start because Mr. Aldeguer was simply an easy guy to get along with. Of course it helped that there was an even deeper, more important bond we shared. We had a love affair with the same mistress – a mistress that consumed much of our time, passion, and energy. This was a mistress that was not a woman, or even human at that. Mr. Aldeguer and I both had the same object of affection; we both were in love with boxing. Most guys would come to blows when facing his mistresses’ other lover (ala Jerry Springer) but as corny as an afternoon Maury episode, the commonality broke the ice and put us on the same team. As we casually chatted, Mr. Aldeguer’s secretary would come in every so often bearing telephone in hand. He fielded business calls from all over the globe as effortlessly as Ozzie Smith fielded slow rolling grounders to short with a fat man at the plate. He had an ability to flip from business mode to boxing mode as swiftly as a coin goes from heads to tails. Perhaps this was so because boxing was his business. And what enthusiasm and dedication this gentleman had for his business! He spoke about boxing like a five year old would rattle on about his latest sandbox conquest. He loves what he does and even more so, he loves his fighters. Most men would be green with envy to be able to play at work but to Mr. Aldeguer, this was just another day at the office. We spoke and spoke. He taught me many things, from boxing to pointers on doing business in the Philippines. He handed me an ALA cut-off t-shirt (which he strongly reiterated was special because this type was only for his boxers) and we concluded our chat. He was kind enough to send me off with Coach Mike (a former Edito Villamor victim turned Edito Villamor coaching assistant) in one of his ALAmobiles to drive me to my hotel. Yes, you heard me correctly. The ALAmobile was a black SUV with the trademark ALA emblem emblazoned on the side just like the Batmobile minus the gadgets. I would proudly turn heads in the streets as it picked me up again a few hours later for my afternoon training session. 
The author (L) in action atop the ring. 
The ALA Boxing Gym in Cebu City. 
The oval is part of the sprawling ALA boxing gym. I entered the blue gated compound for the second time that day, this time not to talk but to sweat. It was weird. There was a different vibe in the air of the multi-hectare site. That morning, there was the bustling feeling of international business. In the afternoon, the atmosphere was still business, but that of a different type. A business all too familiar with fighters and fight fans like us – a business of a more cut-throat, bloodier, and painful kind. While other countries would shut down for siesta at this hour, the ALA compound began to teem with the focused energy of about fifty boxers ready to, as Judge Mills Lane coined the phrase, “get it on.” Like clockwork, at 3pm Mr. Aldeguer’s mood change also paralleled that of his domain. Every afternoon, Mr. Aldeguer would remove his hat as international business boss and put on the beanie hat of Rocky Balboa’s trainer Mickey. Just as Clark Kent would quickly transform into Superman when danger beckoned, Mr. Aldeguer would transform from his jolly mild mannered self into boxing boss extraordinaire. After a brief smiling hello, it was time. The smile vanished as quickly as it appeared and it was time for business. Fortunately for me, my coach (whose name also happens to be Mickey) gets the same look when it’s time to train, and I knew what it meant: train hard as hell or get out of the way and shut up. As he strolled from his office to the open air gym past his collection of exotic animals, which varied from crocodiles to snakes, boxers would stop dead in their tracks and respectfully and simultaneously echo: “Sir, good afternoon, sir. Hello, Sir. Good day, Sir.” He would acknowledge them with a nod and signal that it was time for work. Boxers hurriedly changed clothes, wrapped hands, donned gloves, warmed up and stretched out. The timer, which I would soon wearily discover was set to only thirty seconds rest, was switched on and reverberated with a buzz. Mr. Aldeguer was very in tune with all that went on at his gymnasium – it would be unfair to just call it a gym because a regular gym would not house an oval running track and a covered, full-sized basketball court. Not a training detail or misplaced dumbbell would go unnoticed here. Nothing eluded his watchful and discerning eye. “Work on his counters,” he would yell into the ring at one of the many coaches. “You gotta move like this,” he whispered calmly to a boxer as he demonstrated the movement. Mr. Aldeguer was completely hands on with everything that went on at his boxing stable. He appeared to have employed his successful “hands on” business formula to make his boxing stable a success as well. “One-two, slip…Now counter!” yelled Mr. Aldeguer as he held mitts for a tall rangy Philippine amateur standout and professional prospect. “The boss, Mr. Aldeguer, doing punch mitt drills?!” one would ask. I told you he was hands on. As a matter of fact, not only does he do punch mitts, he gets down and dirty with them! He performed countering, slipping, bobbing, weaving, and speed/power drills round after tiring round with one of the biggest, strongest, fastest, and most talented kids at the gym. Now I know why he was in such good shape! He wielded punch mitts with ferocity and speed. He flexed muscles and worked his fighters’ reflexes with drills so fast that he would have easily made the director’s cut of Roger Mayweather’s Ringside or Freddie Roach’s Title instructional videos with ease. Had he not have multiple businesses to attend to, Mr. Aldeguer could have easily applied for the Wild Card trainer position that Justin Fortune recently vacated. My Muslim friends from Mindanao told me Allah was merciful. In the strength and conditioning area of the gym, I found out that the ALA of Cebu was a harsh task master. He was just as attentive here as he counted repetitions and dictated the training programs of his athletes. Seeing me hit the bag in the old school Muay Thai mittens I acquired in Thailand, he educated me on the mechanics of a properly thrown punch, the anatomy and physiology of the hand, as well as injury prevention for the boxer. He broke down the reasons why I should not use the gloves I had, albeit I was only using it because they fit in my hand carry and suited me for travel. He then showed me a model of his ALA branded 14 oz. gloves that his company engineered which he suggested I use. This Renaissance man spoke to me about sports conditioning regimens, training schedules and the rationale behind his exercise theories. I must honestly say, as a graduate of a major University Hospital where I was an assistant teacher and sports injury specialist, I was thoroughly impressed. I did not know who stood before me at any given instance because from moment to moment, he morphed from business man to mentor to boxing coach to scientist and back effortlessly and smoothly. At the end of the afternoon training session, he and I looked on as he gave instructions to workers on a ladder. They were building a new fifty foot tall eagle aviary above his Steve Irwin-esque crocodile habitat. Mind you, this crocodile sanctuary just happened to be adjacent to the 200 plus meter outdoor track and just feet from the boxing ring I was to spar in the following day. Talk about motivation during sprinting drills and a damn good reason not to play “rope the dope” unless of course you want to be “dope dinner!” When I asked if the location of the crocs was mere coincidence or strategically planned out, he just laughed. He prodded the larger of the two nameless crocodiles, which had an apparent disliking for each other. It snapped back flashing a row of sharp crooked teeth…I suggested he name them Ali and Frazier. After all, they were the only creatures in the gym over 200 pounds. To be continued in the third and final installment including stories from Boom Boom’s roommates… Click here for Part 1. Note: A special thank you to Dr. Ed de la Vega for introducing me to Dong Secuya, the Aldegeurs, Sammy Gello-ani, Philboxing forum members and Paclanders. Thank you to Dong Secuya for making my love for Philippine Boxing and my country of birth even stronger. Although I am not a writer by trade, I am happy to contribute to the growth of Philippine Boxing in anyway that I possibly can, both inside of the ring and out. About the Author: 
JV Tuazon. Dr. Josef Vincent (J.V.) Tuazon obtained his Doctorate Degree from the University of Medicine and Dentistry of New Jersey in the field of Physical Therapy and Rehabilitation specializing in Sports Rehab. He is a 3x NJ Golden Gloves Boxing Champion, amateur MMA Champion, professional boxer and business man with U.S. national amateur boxing experience, extensive Muay Thai schooling in Thailand, and a black belt in the martial arts. He boxed for the National Golden Gloves Championships in 2005 and was the NJ Team Physical Therapist and Coaching Assistant in 2006. Although he has contributed photos to Philboxing in the past, this is his first foray into boxing journalism. Link to video of JV's 2nd and most recent pro fight. Nov. 10, 2006 Click here to view a list of other articles written by J.V. Tuazon, DPT aka 'The Fight Doc'.  |
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