The Boxing Bagel

Being a single Jewish woman in New York City, I have the opportunity to meet a lot of Jewish men. It's like having a jumbo-size box of Whitman's Sampler at my front door; I can reach in and sample different varieties of Jew: bittersweet (the conflicted type), dark (the brooding type) and nut (i've had a few). I've met bankers, artists and teachers, but one Jewish male I have yet to meet is the one who boxes for a living. When it comes to a fight, Jews prefer the verbal jab over the knockout punch; the Jew brings out the wit to do the hit. Until now.

Enter the 23-year-old boxer named Dima Salita. He's a professional super-lightweight from the Ukraine, by way of Brooklyn. He is also a Hasidic Jew. He is building a boxing career in the New York ring, routinely fighting at the Manhattan Center. He doesn't go into the ring on Shabbat, and his boxing manager is his rabbi's brother. According to the Associated Press, Salita is the World Boxing Association's eighth-ranked; in a year or so, he could well be ready for a title fight.

"He looks Russian, prays Jewish, and fights black," said Jimmy O'Pharrow, a well-known trainer on the amateur circuit.

I've met my fair share of "nice Jewish boys" and I must admit that the boxing bagel thrills me a little. People in my East Harlem neighborhood actually respect Dima; they know his name. My mother always warned me about the "bad boy" - the one who caused trouble and got into fights. I always thought the tough guy meant the wrong guy for me. Not anymore.