Ruelas Brothers Stop Selling Candy and Find the Sweet Science in Gym

It looked like any other peaceful cul-de-sac in any other quiet suburban section of the San Fernando Valley. There were single-level homes on the lots, medium-priced cars in the driveways and bicycles and toys on the lawns.

The last structure on the right side of this dead-end street in North Hollywood looked like all the others.

But 12-year-old Gabe Ruelas, coming down that street selling candy, knew better. He knew that behind the sliding glass door of that last house was a brave, new world. The very thought of it sent shivers of excitement through his body.

Inside was the Ten Goose Boxing gym where Juan, Gabe’s older brother, had once trained for a month.

Clutching his candy, Ruelas peeked in. For him, it was like peering into Wonderland.

Inside was just one big room, most of it taken up with a boxing ring. On the sides were punching bags. Lining the walls were faded posters heralding great fights of the past.

Ruelas knew he would be back.

And one Saturday afternoon, bringing his courage instead of his candy, Ruelas knocked on that sliding door.

Trainer Joe Goossen slid it back.

“Can I talk to the coach?” Ruelas asked.

“I’m the coach,” Goossen said. “What do you need?”

Ruelas puffed up his small chest and announced, “I want to be a fighter.”

Goossen was amused.

“So you want to be a fighter, do you?” he asked. “Maybe some other time.”

It certainly wasn’t an easy time for Goossen. He and his brothers--primarily Dan, Larry and Greg--were trying to get their mom-and-pop boxing operation off the ground, operating with a few fighters.

Goossen was working that day with Alonzo Strongbow, who went on to become the North American Boxing Federation flyweight champion.

“Don’t send him away,” said Strongbow, looking at Ruelas. “I like the look in his eyes.”

Goossen shook his head in mock disgust.

“Come on,” he said. “Don’t encourage the kid. I’m trying to get rid of him.”

Goossen could see he wasn’t getting anywhere. “Fine,” he thought. “This kid wants to box, we’ll let him box.”

Goossen found a pair of gloves, put them on the 12-year-old and told him to throw a right hand.

“There was no hesitation on his part,” Goossen recalled. “He was a quick learner. I had him hit me on the hands and he hit hard. . . . This was a 12-year-old kid, but for his size and age, he hit hard.”

But for how long?

“You are going to have to come back every day if you are really serious,” Goossen said. “If you miss a day, you’re gone.”

He didn’t miss. Ruelas kept coming, six days a week for two months.

Then one day, he asked, “Can I bring my little brother in tomorrow?”

“How old is he? “ Goossen replied.

“Eleven.”

“Hey, I told you,” Goossen said, “I’m not into training kids.”

But Ruelas kept asking, so Goossen finally gave in.

And along came Rafael.

“This kid had no punch, no power at that age,” Goossen said. “He couldn’t hit hard, but he had tremendous hand-eye coordination. I remember thinking, ‘This kid may be better than his brother.’ ”

The Goossens worked with bantamweight contender Frankie Duarte and future middleweight champion Michael Nunn.

The Ruelas brothers watched and learned, ran errands, worked in the corner and dreamed.

But only Goossen was in their corner. A reporter would go to the gym to talk about Nunn.

“The guys you ought to be writing about are those kids over there,” Goossen would say, pointing to the Ruelases. “They are going to be the big story.”

The reporter would nod politely and say, “That’s great, Joe, but getting back to Nunn. . . .”

Goossen’s own brother, Dan, would talk about promoting a Duarte fight.

“The guys you are going to promote for a long time to come are the two kids,” Joe would say.

Dan would nod, like everybody else, and then go on, “I know, Joe, I know, but about Frankie. . . .”

And so it went. But Gabe and Rafael grew, and their punches became more potent.

And finally, people began to notice.

After sparring with them one day in the North Hollywood gym, Duarte brushed sweat off his forehead and said with a sigh, “I’m glad I won’t be fighting much longer. I wouldn’t want to have to face these guys.”

Now, 13 years after Gabe first knocked on that door, he is the World Boxing Council junior-lightweight champion. And Rafael, the International Boxing Federation lightweight champion, will fight Oscar De La Hoya Saturday in a unification title fight in Las Vegas.

And kids selling candy are always welcome at Joe Goossen’s gym.