‘This was for her': how boxing brought a mother and son back from the brink

The Guardian

15-04-2025

Reese Mistretta wasn't thinking about history after he climbed through the ropes on Saturday night. He was thinking about his legs, which felt like cement. About his lungs, which wouldn't quite fill. And about the man across from him: Ali Conde, a sinewy technician from El Maestro's Gym in the Bronx who has made his mark by waiting for opponents to strike first, then exploiting their openings.
Two nights earlier, Mistretta had narrowly beaten Conde under the lights of Madison Square Garden in the elite 176lb final of the Ring Masters Championships, New York's premier amateur boxing competition. But the finals are double elimination. If Mistretta wanted to bring home the title, he'd have to beat Conde a second time at a sweaty gym in the Gravesend neighborhood of Brooklyn. 'He definitely came back, re-corrected, he put it on me a little bit more,' Mistretta said. 'So I had to be a little busier, not get countered at the same time. He's a good counterpuncher.'
His mom wasn't just a spectator. Desiree Mistretta, who won the New York Golden Gloves herself in 1999 and again in 2005, was also in his corner: coaching him, centering him, carefully watching every exchange. When the decision was announced and Reese was declared the winner, they became more than just relatives with a shared calling. They became the first ever mother-son duo to win titles in the New York Golden Gloves, the world's longest-running boxing tournament besides the Olympics.
'That's everything,' said Reese, who is 26. 'This tournament specifically was for her. I have my own goals – we want a national title too – but this was the sweet spot. We became the pair.'
The Ring Masters Championships is the legal successor to the Golden Gloves in New York. The name changed after a 2017 trademark dispute between USA Boxing Metro and the Daily News Charities, but the general structure remains intact: elite- and novice-class tournaments, culminating in finals at Madison Square Garden that once attracted throngs of more than 20,000 spectators at the peak of boxing's popularity. Winners at the elite level today receive a custom-designed ring and qualify for the national Golden Gloves tournament.
The New York Golden Gloves, started in 1927 by Daily News sports editor Paul Gallico in a gambit to boost the infant tabloid's circulation, has long been one of the most prestigious amateur sporting events in the world. Past winners include some of the sport's most towering figures: Sugar Ray Robinson, Floyd Patterson, Héctor Camacho, Mark Breland, Riddick Bowe. But while some participants go on to fight professionally, most use the competition as a proving ground for something deeper: self-respect, self-control and the belief that they belong.
Desiree still has her first winner's necklace, the 10-carat-gold miniature gloves awarded for decades by the Daily News before the legal dispute ended its use. It's smaller, daintier than the rings now given to champions. She wore it around her neck this year. Reese's will be newer: thick, gleaming, heavy with meaning.
Their story spans decades, weight classes and generations of New York boxing.
Desiree took up the gloves in 1997 after battling substance abuse and depression in her 20s. 'I struggled with addiction, alcoholism, depression and all that stuff,' she said. 'It just seemed like something intrigued me. And once I started, that was it. I just loved it. I loved everything about it. I love punching. Just the fun of moving your head and making someone miss, being able just throw one down the middle and pop 'em.'
She found her way to the doors of the Academy of Boxing for Women in Huntington, Long Island, and something clicked. 'If it hadn't said 'for women', I might not have walked in,' she said. Only two years prior, women had finally been allowed to compete in the Golden Gloves after local fighter Dee Hamaguchi campaigned for their inclusion. She took instruction from coach Rich Mancina, who primarily worked with women. 'At first, I was pummeling,' she said. 'I didn't see three rounds until the Golden Gloves. All my fights got stopped early because the referee stopped them.'
Desiree's first white collar fight was at Gleason's Gym and she didn't know she was pregnant at the time. ('I ended it in the first round,' she recalled.) She dropped out of the Golden Gloves because of the pregnancy. But a year later, after giving birth by C-section in September, she returned to the gym and won the 1999 edition in the 156lb women's category by outpointing the more seasoned Jill Emery. 'I was on my way to the gym the morning I went into labor,' she said. 'Back to my pre-pregnancy weight in 30 days.'
Then 28, she went on to place runner-up at Nationals. 'We were just starting,' she said. 'I absolutely feel like I'm one of the pioneers. Kathy Collins, Jill Emery, Jean Martin, Stella Nijhof, Jamie McGrath – we were all in the dark, like the infancy of [women's] boxing in New York.'
Desiree was already out as queer before she began boxing, even while in a relationship with Reese's father. She found enduring support in both the LGBTQ and sober communities, which continue to be vital for her and Reese. Her first girlfriend worked near the gym where she trained. 'That's how I found the Academy,' she said. 'It was all connected.'
Eventually, she stopped fighting to start a family. Then she relapsed. When she got clean again, she decided to make one last run before she aged out at 35. That's when she met Joe Higgins, the former marine and firefighter who ran the Freeport PAL gym on Long Island. Together, they won the 2005 Golden Gloves in her last year of eligibility.
Reese grew up around boxing but tried other things: BMX biking, DJing, wrestling. He sparred a bit as a junior, but didn't recommit until a few years ago. 'I had a rough couple of years,' he said. 'I kept having a bad winter after bad winter. I tried for a job with the fire department and didn't get it. And it hurt. It really hurt. I wasn't doing well mentally. I went back to boxing because I needed to.'
Desiree didn't push. 'She never made me do boxing,' Reese said. 'Not once.'
She focused instead on supporting him: driving, cooking, coaching. 'This is harder for me emotionally,' Desiree said. 'Back then I had my weight, my training. This is different. It's dealing with my son's emotions. We've all sacrificed to support him so much.'
Back at Freeport PAL, the old rhythms returned. Higgins, the same boxing lifer who had trained Desiree, took Reese under his wing. 'I've known him my whole life,' Reese said. 'Now I've earned his respect as one of his boxers.'
The tournament didn't come easy. Reese had entered the same event a year earlier, only to suffer a broken jaw during sparring one day after Christmas. 'Boxing was my savior,' he said. 'Then it became the source of my pain. So to come back and win? Full circle.'
Last month he was outpointed by Rodney Phoenix from the Harlem House of Champions in a grueling preliminary bout. Then came the first meeting with Conde on Thursday night at the Garden's 5,600-seat theater. Reese controlled the tempo, moved well, won on points. But he had to do it again. Between bouts, Desiree barely slept. 'I didn't want to pressure him because of the history,' she said. 'But we both had it tucked away in the back of our mind.'
The second bout, at the New York Fight Club in south-east Brooklyn, was tougher. Conde adjusted, stepping up his punch volume. Reese had to match him move for move and he did cleanly. And when the referee raised his hand again, he knew what it meant. 'I've won all three New York tournaments now,' Reese said. 'This was the one that mattered most.'
The win was personal for both of them – but also for the memory of Patrick Day, the former Freeport PAL standout who died from injuries sustained in the ring in 2019. 'We both have tattoos for him,' Desiree said. 'Even Reese's trunks have 'All Day' and the Haitian flag [a tribute to Day's Haitian-American background]. I saw Patrick when he was a teenager, when he first came to the gym, and I was there encouraging him. Then Patrick was there encouraging Reese. He was a role model to my son. He's got a special place in our heart. We have a very beautiful story in this gym – with Joe Higgins, with Pat. It all comes together.'
Reese can also remember watching his mom win the 2005 Gloves at the Garden when he was six years old. 'The theater is big and it's got the nice lights, but it's not like a massive stadium,' he said. 'But when I was a kid, that's how I remember it. I remember being like the Colosseum, being like too big for me to even comprehend. And I remember seeing her after she won with my coach Joe. I think about that moment a lot now, having won it at MSG.'
Next up is the National Golden Gloves in Tulsa. After that? He's not sure. 'You know, I'm kind of an as-I-go type of person,' he said. 'If I get an opportunity to go pro and my coach thinks I'm ready, I'd do it. But I won't do it without their support. I want to keep winning and I really want that national title. That would be, I think, another first mother-and-son accomplishment.'
Desiree will be on the apron in Oklahoma, cheering, working the corner, maybe crying more tears of pride. 'It's not about living through him,' Desiree said. 'It's about sharing this part of myself with him. Seeing him grow into his own man, that's the real win.'
They didn't just win titles. They fought their way back – in sweat and in stillness – from setbacks, from sorrow, from the lonely brink. That's the real inheritance between mother and son: the courage to fall, the stubborn act of trying again, and the force of will to carry on.