Las Vegas Sun

March 28, 2024

Vegas boxing coach kept troubled youths in the gym, off the streets

Vigil For Boxing Coach Jose Banales

Steve Marcus

Orlando Ambriz, left, shares an experience during a vigil for amateur boxing coach Jose Banales at the Center Ring Boxing gym Friday, Aug. 7, 2020. Banales, who operated the boxing club since 1994, died on Thursday, Aug. 6.

Vigil For Boxing Coach Jose Banales

Sergio Lopez places a candle at a makeshift memorial for amateur boxing coach Jose Banales at the Center Ring Boxing gym Friday, Aug. 7, 2020. Banales, who operated the boxing club since 1994, died on Thursday, Aug. 6. Launch slideshow »

Jose Bañales was a boxing trainer whose nonprofit gym in northeast Las Vegas became a safe haven for hundreds troubled children over the years.

Under his watchful eye, they thrived in a disciplined and structured environment, and gained confidence. Many went on to become productive members of the community.

But Bañales, who died Thursday at age 55 after suffering a heart attack, was so much more than a club director and coach.

It’s the memories of who Bañales was outside the club that made his death so painful, his friends say.

Hundreds under his tutelage saw him as a father figure, feeding and sheltering teens who had nowhere else to turn. He was the man who welcomed them when cops dropped them off as a last resort, because hard jail time was next.

He was the coach who never turned away anyone and never charged a fee. He was the mentor they kept in touch with well into adulthood.

Bañales was the “Big Joe” or “Jefe” hundreds showed up to honor at a vigil Friday night outside Center Ring Boxing, his nonprofit club’s latest home at a repurposed firehouse at 5710 E. Judson Ave.

More than 200 masked mourners congregated outside the gym. Young attendees were propped up on adult shoulders, and some who couldn’t make it to the gathering checked in virtually through cellphones.

One by one, Bañales’ former boxers, family and friends approached to speak about how he saved their lives.

One spoke about having new trainers who praised the skills he learned early on from Bañales. Another told the story about the day his mother showed his trainer his bad grades, and instead of practicing the sport that day, his coach made him study. A third spoke about showing up to the gym out of curiosity, and never leaving Bañales’ circle.

“Thank you Mama, for giving us an angel,” one of them shouted toward Bañales’ mother.

Bañales, a native of San Jose, Calif., graduated from high school in 1984 and was a member of the Future Farmers of America youth leadership organization. When his grandparents passed away in the late 1980s, his parents and siblings moved to Las Vegas searching for a new life. Bañales followed.

In the early 1990s, Bañales took over his family’s boxing gym and started training children ages 8 to 18. He would also organize events and made sure everyone had the chance to compete, even if the card went on with dozens of fights. If his fighters felt wronged, he would make sure they got another chance.

His nonprofit would also afford the youths a chance to attend regional competitions, oftentimes digging in his own pocket to cover costs. A speaker described his easy nature and how he would tease the fighters with a “hey foo!”

People who work with troubled teens usually cite their own harsh upbringing as motivation for giving back. But Bañales didn’t have a harsh childhood, said Lucy Gomez, his sister. “He’s the good brother,” she said.

Never having been a boxer himself, he was more passionate about seeing his students graduate and become worthy members of society, rather than excelling in the sport, she said.

“We grew up in a home with both parents, had everything and he wanted to give children what he had (in his childhood),” said Gomez, noting that he didn’t have children of his own and never married. When his father passed away, Bañales helped take care of his mother.

Gomez said her phone hasn’t stopped ringing, with crying well-wishers not believing the news of Bañales’ death.

“Bro, it hurts. It’s very hard to talk about Joe,” Robert Camacho said.

The Camachos were Bañales’ second family, having met them when he moved to Las Vegas.

“He was real blood to us,” said Camacho, who’s been involved with Center Ring Boxing since its inception. “He was always at the gym, and he was always worried about the next move.” His main focus was the kids, forgoing any dating life and often having to find ways to pay his own bills, Robert Camacho said.

He was “so easy to get along with,” Camacho said, adding that he was “even hard to argue with.”

Kathie Ambrosio, secretary in the board of directors for Center Ring Boxing, spoke about meeting Bañales when he was trying to incorporate the nonprofit in the early ’90s, helping him draft the first petitions for funding.

“I saw what he was doing with the boys and I got hooked,” Ambrosio said. “He didn’t believe in just working with the boxers who were good or had a lot of problems,” Ambrosio said.

Rather, she said he worked with all of them, knowing that fewer than 1% would turn pro. He had an on-site tutor who helped them with school, and boys who didn’t show improvement in their studies would not be allowed to fight. This drove their motivation, she said.

And when grants funded help for 30 to 40 members, his gym would sometimes train hundreds of boys at a time, Ambrosio said.

Bañales also trained them in ways that they wouldn’t receive blows to the head, before those types of injuries became a known problem in the sport. He would instruct his coaches not to curse in front of the kids or show favoritism. “Seeing him walk the talk was impressive,” Ambrosio said.

Ricky Camacho, no relation to Robert Camacho, said he landed in Bañales’ program when he was a teenager hanging around with troublemakers. He stopped training at age 22, but returned six years ago as a coach.

“He was somebody who would take anyone in, if you needed help, wanted to learn how to fight or defend (yourself),” Ricky Camacho said.

But “he would teach you more than boxing,” he said. “He would teach you to be an asset to the community.”

Bañales, a burly man, would teach the boys how to speak politely by shaking hands, practicing eye contact, and not chewing gum, Ricky Camacho said. But he also taught them how to be assertive and confident.

Once anyone met Bañales, he “took you in as one of his own,” Ricky Camacho said. “You became a part of his life.”

A car wash to raise money for his funeral expenses is 8 a.m. Saturday at Center Ring Boxing. A public viewing is being planned for 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. Aug. 23 at the gym.