By Norm Frauenheim-PHOENIX, Ariz. — If life is a logo, Ray Beltran has one that hints at where he’s been, where he’s going and mostly who he is. It’s the Phoenix bird, a symbol of inexhaustible resiliency, with his initials at its heart.
The R is reversed, the young Ray facing left and perhaps looking back on who he was. It backs up to the B, the mature Beltran facing right and looking forward to a career that continues to unfold. In some ways, it represents nearly two decades that have come full circle, a round trip bringing Beltran back to a city he has never really left. The desert town and its mythic symbol are his identity.
He’ll stage a formal homecoming a week from Saturday, August 25, at Gila River Arena in suburban Glendale in his first Arizona bout in more than a decade. It’s no coincidence, perhaps, that it will be his first fight — here or anywhere else — as a defending champion. The title dreams he brought with him to Phoenix in 1999 were finally fulfilled with a unanimous decision over Paulus Moses in Reno for the World Boxing Organization’s belt last February in Reno.
“People know me, know who I am,’’ said Beltran, who faces a tricky challenge against switch-hitting Jose Pedraza of Puerto Rico in an ESPN-televised bout. “They know what’s real, what’s not.’’
If time is any measure, few have been as real as Beltran. At 37, he’s something of a late bloomer. That’s a perilous place to be in an unforgiving craft. But Beltran is there, sure of who he is as a fighter. There have been times when he wasn’t certain. In part, his career has been about figuring out just who he was within the ropes.
It wasn’t exactly an identity crisis. But it was a learning process. When he arrived in Phoenix in 199 with late Hall of Fame trainer and mentor Emanuel Steward, he was called Brown Sugar. That suggested he would be an elusive fighter, finesse first and power second. But he was never really that guy. Instead, he discovered through time, trial and error that his instinctive aggressiveness was his real strength.
That time included about 10 years as Manny Pacquiao’s primary sparring partner. Beltran guesses that he sparred about 3,000 rounds with Pacquiao. To a degree, that meant a lot of role playing. For a while, he’d be Miguel Cotto. Then, Antonio Margarito. Then, Shane Mosley, Then, Juan Manuel Marquez. Then, Timothy Bradley. Then, Floyd Mayweather. A little bit from each can add up to a lot in one. It gives Beltran experience for which there is in match.
There’s also time with Steward, who brought Beltran up from his native Mexico and put him on Phoenix cards he promoted in 2001. Then, Beltran followed Steward to Detroit and the famed Kronk Gym.
“I had nowhere to live, so I lived with Emanuel at his house in Detroit for a year,’’ Beltran says.
Dinner with the Hall of Fame trainer was a lesson plan, Then, there all those rounds with Pacquiao before some of the biggest fights in a new millennium. There’s not much that Beltran hasn’t heard, hasn’t seen. His is a comprehensive resume, one that could get an intriguing addition if he beats Pedraza. A win on Aug 25 probably sets up a title defense against Vasiliy Lomachenko, perhaps in December. That would mean Beltran would be the only fighter to face two of the leading contenders in the pound-for-pound debate. Lomachenko and Terence Crawford are either No. 1 or No. 2 in several of the subjective ratings. Beltran lost a unanimous decision to Crawford in 2014.
His unique experience puts him line to be in a singular position. But he is also there because of the resiliency, the rising-from-the-ashes quality symbolized in the personal logo he designed. Beltran’s 44-fight record includes seven defeats and a controversial draw in 2013 with then WBO champion Ricky Burns in Scotland.
In an era defined by protection of an unbeaten record through optimization of the risk-to-reward equation, a fighter with seven losses is a retired fighter. But there is no modern equation that explains Beltran. Only a logo can.