Curmel Moton works prior to his East Coast debut in Philadelphia (Photo by Ike Richman/Swift Promotions).
PHILADELPHIA, PA — Curmel Moton did not want his father to hear him. He did not want anyone to hear him, nor see him. So, he curled up and locked himself in a hotel bathroom stall and let the tears slide down his face bleeding the disappointment through his eyes, while trying to muffle his sobs. For a moment, his spirit was broken, shattered in the National Silver Gloves 70-pound final loss to a fighter named Breishaun Johnson, someone Moton had beaten before.
It was then, Moton reflects, sitting in that bathroom stall, that he felt destined to do something in boxing.
He was 11.
He vowed to himself that he would never go through that visceral gut-wrenching pain as he did that early-February afternoon in 2018 at the Hilton Garden Inn, in Independence, Missouri. He would never lose another fight, he promised himself.
Moton did lose again—five years later.
He has not lost so far as a pro. He won over 18 amateur national titles. He had a 156–7 amateur record. Presently, he is the best young fighter in the world. The 18-year-old lightweight, fighting under the Mayweather Promotions banner, is powerful, fast and rising quickly. Trained by his father, Curtis, Moton is 5-0, with four knockouts. On Saturday night at the 2300 Arena in Philadelphia, Moton will be fighting 25-year-old Hilario Martinez Moreno (4-4, 4 KOs) in a six-rounder on Danny Garcia’s Swift Promotions 11-fight card, in partnership with Susan G. Komen to knock out breast cancer.
To this day, Moton remembers who beat him nine years ago and how that created the stage for a renewed, and arduous climb to the top. Mayweather knew about him when he was eight. Moton himself discovered the magic in his hands a few years later. The rest of the boxing world is beginning to catch up.
“Yeah, I was that young,” he says. “That’s when I started to take boxing more seriously. I hate to lose, I mean I really hate to lose, and that loss (to Johnson) in the national finals when I was 11 set me off. I even remember the kid’s name. I would cry in the ring when I lost. When I was young, I did not know how to deal with losing. I learned then, after that national championship loss, how to deal with it. I just cried. I got myself together. My dad came and got me. I wasn’t about to show him I was crying.”
But Curtis knew. He could see the emotion and sadness in his son’s bloodshot eyes.
A week after the national final loss, Curtis had “Curmey,” as he is known to family and close ones, back in another tournament in Branson, Missouri. Curmel won easily.
“I wanted to get him back winning as soon as possible, but I remember that national tournament loss,” Curtis recalled. “He would always cry in the ring the rare times he lost. He does not take losing well.”
The Motons are originally from Salt Lake City, Utah. Curtis had Curmel in boxing gloves when he was four, and in the gym by the time he was six. Part of the reason was Curmel was a whirling tornado in his youth, running over or through everything in his path. He was on the short, stocky side, like his father, filled with rambunctious energy. The neighbors were afraid to bring over their kids, telling Curtis, “Please tell your kid not to hurt my kid.”
When Curmel was six, Curtis and Curmel moved to Las Vegas, where in a few years, Mayweather came across him. Otis Pimpleton, a highly respected Las Vegas-based coach, quite literally watched Curmel’s boxing life sprout from its origins. Curmel was seven. Pimpleton noticed then Curmel’s unbending work ethic and unsatiable desire to learn.
“Because of his stern background through his dad, Curmel always wanted to stay busy in the gym,” Pimpleton said. “Even at seven, he wanted to keep learning. I would train all these kids and I would bring them to Floyd to see if he could help us get these kids to tournaments. Floyd made sure these kids were always funded, and made sure that they were always able to get to fights. Curmel used to be really short for his age. He liked taking on bigger, older kids. He was short and stocky. Curmel got knocked down, but he always got right back up and he was never outclassed. The kid is very humble, and very respectful, and that comes from his dad.
“He still wants to learn. He just turned pro. We have at least another 20 years. He has a lifetime ahead of him. Mel is the same way Floyd was. He never wants to stop working. That’s why the kid is as good as he is. He is special. There is no doubt about that.”
Curmel has grown from the stubby, chubby kid to 5-foot-7. He is intelligent beyond his years, soft-spoken, very approachable, very likable, and likes to knock people out. He has been labeled “Mayweather’s protégé,” though he has far more power than the Hall of Famer ever had in his long, singular career. He is also willing to be patient as he climbs.
He is a plus-side future of the sport without the baggage.
Curmel will turn 19 next June 4. He finds himself the face of Mayweather Promotions—a good, friendly face.
It was not that long ago he was a crying 11-year-old dabbing toilet paper on his face to wipe away the tears. He is now fighting before thousands on the undercards of major shows as he trends upward.
“If I could do it, go back in time to the kid crying in the bathroom stall after that loss, I probably would leave the kid alone, because it has worked out pretty well so far,” Moton said. “I still remember being all alone in that stall. It pushes me every time. When I’m working and I’m getting tired, I think about that time and I don’t want to relive it. It gives me the energy to work harder. My time will come. I just have to be patient.”
And take along the 11-year-old crying kid inside of him for what could be a memorable ride.
Tickets are on sale now at 2300Arena.com [2300arena.com].
Joseph Santoliquito is an award-winning sportswriter who has been working for Ring Magazine/RingTV.com since October 1997 and is the president of the Boxing Writers Association of America.
Follow @JSantoliquito
