First a soldier, now the oldest Olympic trials winner

Sgt. First Class Christopher Downs became the oldest man to win the Olympic boxing trials. AP

In a Houston hotel lobby last weekend, Basheer Abdullah, coach of the U.S. boxing team, was telling people why he had it so easy. Abdullah couldn't say how many international medals he expected the boxers on this year's team to win, but at least curfews and appointments weren't a problem. "Don't have to wake anybody up," he said. "My man does that. He's early for everything."

His man has been through the wars, specifically the one in Iraq, where he was stationed for 14 months. The man is also 32, a good deal older than many of the teenagers he advises, mentors and sometimes awakens to get them started at training camps and tournaments. It all fits, except that in the boxing world, his man, Sgt. First Class Christopher Downs, is a foot soldier rather than a General.

Last weekend, Downs became the oldest U.S. boxer ever to win the Olympic trials, defeating Yathomis Riley, 21-11, in the finals of the light heavyweight (178-pound) class. Downs will now represent the United States in September at the world championships in Chicago. There, boxers will have their first to chance to clinch guaranteed berths at the Olympics next summer in Beijing with top-eight finishes.

Should Downs box in China, he would barely make it under the international age wire. AIBA rules require boxers to be between the ages of 17 and 34, yet few boxers outside of Cubans reach the high end of that scale. Downs is a rarity in the boxing world that often draws teenagers onto national teams in the amateur ranks, then spits them into pro careers before they are old enough to drink. Of the 11 men who won weight divisions at the Olympic trials last weekend, seven were teenagers and nobody, other than Downs, was over 22.

But although Downs is wise beyond his years, he is still raw (in boxing terms) compared to his wisdom. His younger teammates are 10-year veterans of the ring. Downs is a newbie who ran into the sport by chance.

Though he was an accomplished basketball player and half-miler at his high school in Knoxville, Tenn., Downs never considered a future in sports. He was sorting mail in a post office in 1997 when a military calling gave him a chance to see the world. Even that was a tough call. Downs had married his school sweetheart (he and wife, Patricia, now have two children: Christen, 9, and Cameron, 7) and knew his tours would keep him away from home. He moved often and served a stint in Korea before landing a tour in Hawaii.

In 2003, a major at Downs' Schofield Barracks in Hawaii was unable to find volunteers to represent his officer formation in a boxing smoker, an impromptu challenge tournament the officers often participated in. So the major reviewed Downs' exceptional physical training scores -- 11 minutes for on a two-mile run, 90 sit-ups in two minutes and 120 push-ups in two minutes -- and volunteered him. "None of us had real boxing skills," Downs recalls. "We were just swinging."

Downs began winning the impromptu smokers at different levels: battalion, brigade, division -- before he was shipped to Tikrit in Northern Iraq in January 2004. He remained there for 14 months, working civil affairs missions he often found rewarding. His unit opened schools, mingled with natives and brought running water to areas that lacked it, but they were always mindful of danger. Though Downs, himself, was never hit, the six men under his command received a total of six purple hearts.

Finally, in March 2005, a major told Downs he could go to Colorado to train with an Army boxing team through the World Class Athlete Program that allows active duty military personnel to train for international competition. Downs hesitated, wanting to make sure members of his platoon were okay with the idea that he would leave them in a time of danger in order to train for a sport. "Everyone I spoke to told me this was a rare opportunity that I should take advantage of," Downs recalls. "Maybe I had a future in boxing."

Not everyone was convinced. "He was a novice," Abdullah remembers. "I didn't think of bringing him into the program at first. It's a young man's sport. But after that first year it was night and day. I never coached anyone who listened so well or had such a strong will."

Downs won a PAL championship that year, defeated boxers from Canada and Azerbaijan in dual meets and reached the semifinals of the U.S. Nationals. He was awkward, for sure, darting, lunging, rarely doubling up on his punches. Yet, considering the way Eastern European and Cuban styles often fluster U.S. opponents, Downs was also difficult to hit. "Guys couldn't figure him out," Abdullah says. "Even he didn't know what he was going to do."

In 2006, Downs won his first national title, stopping Alfonso Lopez in the first round. Earlier this summer, he was named team captain of the U.S. squad that boxed at the Pan-Am Games in Rio, where he settled for a bronze medal after a competitive 8-5 loss to Cuba's Yuciel Napoles in the semifinals. Even Abdullah won't hazard a guess as to Downs' medal prospects at worlds or in Beijing after he has another year of seasoning.

For now, Downs remains stationed at Fort Collins in Colorado, where, because of his admission into the world Class Athlete Program, he is able to train fulltime to represent the U.S. in international competition. At national camps, he is in an odd position of being a virtual team grandpa and an inexperienced fighter who picks the brains of his younger teammates. "They might tell me, 'If he throws a punch, you need to step to your right and come over the top,'" says Downs. "I would never have thought of that."

Gone are the glory days when names such as Muhammad Ali (then Cassius Clay), Joe Frazier, George Foreman and Sugar Ray Leonard won Olympic titles before launching legendary pro careers. U.S. boxers have won only one gold medal at the last two Olympics combined. With a delayed learning curve that is both sharp and unique, Downs would seem like a long shot. "He's new, but don't bet against a man who has seen combat," Abdullah says. "There's nobody out there like him."