Boxers and trainers are all packed in a corner of the luxurious barroom at the San Francisco Elks Lodge. Simon paces the carpeted floor and casts glances to the bar, where about 60 club-members are gathered. "The suits make me nervous," says Vaj, who wears jeans like most of the other trainers in the room. The contrast between these two groups of people stand out in this setting; the young to middle-aged, white businessmen with golden tie-clips are waiting for their three-forks-a-person dinner -- the multicultural group of street kids are shoveled in a corner, waiting to tear each other apart while the rich men eat desert.
Trying to kill time Gary puts down his leather jacket and pulls up a copy of Lord of the Flies, which he uses to teach English to students at Woodside High School. Simon sits down, sips from his glass of water and fills out USA Boxing forms. As the club-members withdraw to the dimly-lit dining room, Simon and a few other boxers start jumping around, shadowboxing in the hallway and in front of the mirrors in the restroom.
A few minutes before 8 p.m., Gary has a little pep-talk with Simon. The fight is scheduled for 8:30. Simon's opponent leans back in chair 10 feet away, still not dressed for the fight. Simon sits with his back straight, his head up, and his fists clenched. He's had butterflies in his stomach off and on since he woke up, and he has been ready to fight since the weigh-in. "You've got business to take care of, and you know exactly what to do," Gary says. Simon nods.