Stamford’s son Chordale Booker triumphed over hardship through lessons learned in the boxing ring—and ranks fifth in the world in the Junior Middleweight division now
Portrait by: Kyle Norton
Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth. – Mike Tyson
Chordale Booker can relate. About a decade ago, the up-and-coming young boxer stood in the ring for a sparring session against David Telesco, a veteran who once fought Roy Jones and several other well-known fighters. “I started touching him up,’’ Booker says. Telesco retaliated and smashed a powerful right bomb to his chin. “I remember almost falling asleep in my corner. It was a perfect shot.”
Booker’s trainer, Ahmad Mickens, immediately stopped the session. “I told Chordale when you get into the ring with somebody with more experience, and they hit you like that, it shows you did something right,’’ he recalls. “It shows you impressed him with your skill.”
Booker returned to the ring the next day, demonstrating the resilience that has defined his career—and life. At just 18 years old, Booker faced narcotics and gun charges and 13 years in jail. Judge Gary White offered him three years’ probation and implored him to focus on boxing. “It was such a relief,’’ Booker says. “My mother and grandmother were crying. I ran out of the courtroom, and I had my freedom. I never want to go back to that.”
Booker, whose nickname is “The Gift,” made the most of his opportunity. He is 23-1 as a professional boxer and ranked sixth in the Junior Middleweight Division by the World Boxing Organization. He is also transforming the lives of young people as a trainer working with Mickens at RF Youth Boxing and through his Go the Distance Foundation, which serves as a bridge between local law enforcement and at-risk youth. The rebellious boy who fought his way around Stamford 15 years ago is now counseling youngsters on finding a productive life path.
“It’s truly a blessing to watch how his life has turned around,’’ Booker’s mother, Sheryl Morrison, says. “Now he has such direction and focus. He’s become someone that I look up to and motivates me. He’s got a natural gift with kids. He’s loving and he cares about them. It’s a beautiful thing to see.”
Guiding Light Booker’s guide throughout his personal evolution has been Mickens, who started training him around the time his legal troubles began. He saw boxing skills, but he also saw through Booker’s rough-and-tumble veneer.
“All he needed was guidance,’’ Mickens says. “I saw a lot of things that are coming to fruition right now. Otherwise, I would not have invested so much in him.”
Mickens trained Booker as a fighter, but there was more. When he escaped jail time and found himself in the ring, Booker and Mickens would spend hours together discussing subjects far more consequential than boxing.
“Without Ahmad, this wouldn’t be possible,’’ Booker says. “I was 18 turning 19, and I couldn’t afford to go to the gym. I could no longer be in the youth program. He said ‘you’ll become the head coach, and I’ll train you.’”
Booker soon discovered many young men drifting toward the path that landed him in trouble. “I found these juvenile kids who were similar to me,’’ he says. “I told them, ‘You don’t want to go down that road. You’ll land in a situation you may not get out of.’ ”
So, while he worked his way up the boxing rankings, Booker also found a talent for connecting with people who faced the same life hurdles he had endured. He reached them at important junctures in their lives, but also related to them in ways many others cannot. Booker had walked a mile in their same troubled shoes and faced similar trauma.
“It took time,’’ Booker says. “I think I got better as the years went on. I started to understand the impact I was having on them. The more experience I got, the more confidence I had to say what was in my heart and on my mind. I didn’t feel like I was able to open up as a kid and be vulnerable in that way, to tell someone I love you.”
Booker says seeing his students pivot away from the indiscretions that marred his teenage years into a more productive life is rewarding in his role as a trainer. “I can’t explain the feeling that I get, knowing when they make a better decision,’’ he said. “It’s worth more than any material gain.”
For those who knew Booker as a young man, seeing him find and develop a sensitive, caring side is a life U-turn that seems as unlikely as it is profound.
Street Tough
As a boy, Booker split his time between Stamford and Bridgeport. Sheryl worked in Stamford but lived in Bridgeport, and her son spent a lot of time with his grandmother, growing up around the former Southfield Village 256-unit housing project near Interstate 95 and the Greenwich border. Closed in 1993, it was dubbed the “most dangerous housing project in Stamford” by the police department in a 1986 article in The New York Times. While it may have been razed, the same societal issues—drugs, guns, unsafe streets—plagued the neighborhood ears after its demise.
“That was my upbringing,’’ Booker says. “That’s what made me the guy I am today. You had to be tough to come outside and have fun. Even the softest of women were very hard.”
Morrison remembers an incident in Bridgeport when another kid tried to steal her son’s bike. “The other kids were older, and one of the guys pulled him off and tried to take it,’’ Morrison says. “He didn’t let go and started fighting. I think it was a survival instinct. He was always so mature, but he gravitated to kids who weren’t the greatest role models.”
Morrison struggled to steer her son away from trouble. He spoke with his fists, ready to join any neighborhood fracas at a moment’s notice. Booker played youth basketball and football and eventually earned a spot on the Stamford High basketball team. While hardly a star, Booker exhibited the physical and mental toughness that has served him well in his boxing career. At 5 feet, 9 inches, he was undersized but played with intensity. He was his team’s enforcer.
“He was a firecracker,’’ says Jimmy Jordan, an assistant coach to Jim Moriarty and Booker’s confidant. “He played with passion. When he was out there, he did what he had to do. He took everything seriously. He grew up on the streets, so nothing phased him.”
The relationship between Booker and Moriarty was sometimes volatile and frequently contentious. Jordan remembers a game when Booker got ejected and ripped his jersey off in frustration. Booker earned a technical foul, and the official asked Moriarty for the player’s jersey number. “Jim said, ‘How would I know? He took off his shirt,’’’ Jordan recalls.
Moriarty, a taskmaster with little patience for silly mistakes, guided Stamford to some of its most successful seasons ever. In Booker’s senior year, the Black Knights reached the Class LL semifinals and won the Fairfield County Interscholastic Athletic Association championship with an overtime victory over archrival Trinity Catholic. Booker played an important role on the team, which was led by Chris Evans and Mark Ellis.
“Mo wanted the best for Chordale,’’ Jordan says. “They would argue sometimes. I’d say, ‘Chordale, let’s take a walk.’ The first thing he wanted to do at the first sign of trouble was use his fists. Then he’d be ready to talk about it like nothing ever happened.”
In one game, Booker and Jordan found themselves surrounded by multiple police officers after an in-game altercation. Booker’s temper erupted frequently, and Jordan found himself thrust in the middle, trying to reduce the young athlete’s rage and keeping law enforcement from escalating the scene.
“He respected the street law,’’ Jordan says. “If you were one of his friends, he was a ride-or-die guy. He didn’t wait to handle the problem. He took care of the problem right there on the spot. He had a lot of anger in him. If you disrespected him, you could get the worst out of Chordale.”
Booker found difficulty channeling his teenage angst off the basketball court, which led to an escalation of legal troubles shortly after graduation. In a film Booker made with photographer Craig Cutler, Booker said he started selling drugs as a teenager. “Once I got to high school, it was easy at that point. Everybody was doing drugs. I was selling drugs in school, out of school, after school, during basketball practice. I knew it was wrong, but I wanted what I wanted.”
“It was a trying time,’’ Morrison says as she watched her son face Judge White. “He was looking at doing some serious jail time. We had people from the church. A lot of mentors and family members show up at every court session. We wanted to do anything we could to help him. The judge saw that he had a good support system. It turned out the judge was also into boxing, and it was like divine intervention. It helped him focus, helped build his character.”
Stepping in The Ring
Booker escaped jail time and found a boxing home under the tutelage of Mickens, who saw evidence early on that the teenager possessed serious skills.
“I definitely saw the work ethic,’’ Mickens says. “He was coming into the gym every day. He would be there for hours. I’d give him a task and he’d stay with it. I tested him early to see how he would react, and it was definitely to my liking.”
Mickens said Booker showed early boxing instinct and also liked his southpaw stance. Some of boxing’s best fighters—Marvelous Marvin Hagler, Pernell Whitaker and Hector Camacho, for instance—fought as southpaws.
Booker lost his first fight but gained vast experience and helped propel him on the journey that would make him one of the world’s top professional boxers.
“The first round he whupped me,’’ Booker says. “I remember feeling down on myself.
I made a decision; I can’t stop and be a loser. I won my second fight. The high I got off the crowd, I fell in love with it right there and never looked back.”
He achieved notoriety as an amateur, eventually reaching the finals of the U.S. Olympic Trials in 2016. He lost by a point to Charles Conwell in the final, but shortly thereafter turned professional and won his debut as a pro with a second-round TKO against Albert Allen.
Booker has continued to climb and believes he could still capture a world crown. Just as important, he is directing young people away from the self-destructive path that could have waylaid his life if not for the ruling from
a friendly judge.
For many young men especially, the challenges associated with growing up in inner-city environments sooner or later come to a boiling point. There aren’t always guideposts when they have to eventually choose between mayhem and maturation, only instinct and experience. Booker’s wisdom gives them a chance to hear, learn, and make better life choices. Maybe they won’t end up becoming champion boxers. Maybe they will, however, become excellent sons, fathers, role models and citizens.
“I try to let kids know that life is more important than whatever we’re going through today,’’ Booker says. “It will soon pass. I remember those days when a kid made me feel like a punk and now I gotta fight him after school. It’s not going to matter the next day, the next week or the next year. What matters is how you handle it. Kids get so worked up
on what other kids think of them. It’s not worth it. Make smart choices, and don’t go down the same path that I did.”
Success will follow.
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