THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, July 14, 1994 TAG: 9407140532
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C01 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY JIM DUCIBELLA, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: PORTSMOUTH LENGTH: Long : 116 lines
Monday through Friday, Dorin Spivey works in maintenance at Chesapeake Square Mall, though he travels the mall like a doctor greeting patients in a hospital.
There's Alisha, Edith and Marian in the food court; Jim, Dennis and the others in maintenance; Jack, Vernell and the rest of the senior citizens who are early morning walkers.
Spivey greets everybody, whether he knows them or not. Most smile, wave, or shout a salutation in return. It's such a small thing, being friendly, but it has paid rewards far beyond what Spivey and the senior citizens ever dreamed.
``They've taught me that we're all God's children,'' Spivey said, ``that everyone's basically the same. My heart's open to these people for being an inspiration to me. Hearing them behind me, they've made me stronger. I love 'em like family.''
Tonight, many of them will be in his corner - some literally if they could - at the Peppermint Beach Club in Virginia Beach when Spivey, 5-foot-5, 143 pounds, takes on Blue Everett in a scheduled six-round bout.
Many of them know little about boxing. No matter. They attend all of Spivey's bouts. They don't watch Dorin Spivey box for the way he fights. They watch for the way he loves.
Them.
When he started at Chesapeake Square two years ago, Spivey was a 19-year-old Manor High School graduate who knew little about whites. He had no animosity toward them. They just weren't part of his life.
``Two years ago, I was a quiet, shy person,'' Spivey said. ``It wasn't until I started working here that I realized how nice people are. They pray for me each fight.''
They're only doing what he's asked them to do.
``He's never asked me to pray that he wins,'' says friend Jack Boyd. ``Just that no one gets hurt.''
Likewise, Jim and Dennis, Vernell and Jack knew little about blacks two years ago, except for some stereotypical notions.
In the antiseptic and often cold atmosphere of a mall, they've met, talked, laughed, learned and loved it.
``He has convinced me beyond doubt that all black men are not how they're portrayed most often,'' Boyd said. ``I've told all my friends and relatives about Dorin, and I tell you today that I'm proud to be a friend of his. And we've got nothing in common; I'm two generations ahead of him.''
Last April, Jack and wife Vernell, both 76, moved from the home they tended with such care for years into a retirement community at the beach. He was a fighter pilot in World War II. F-17 Thunderbolts. And decorated seven times.
The day he left Portsmouth, he sent a box and a letter to Spivey. Inside were his medals, a gift. The letter explained that he didn't deliver it in person because there would have been so many tears.
``I thought so much of this fellow that I just thought he'd appreciate having that, and a little piece of history,'' Boyd said recently, looking inside the box. ``Tell you the truth, I'm the one who's honored. Honored he kept these things.''
What has become so meaningful to both sides - Spivey and the Boyds never greet or leave each other without hugging first - began so simply.
Boyd would bring Vernell to walk at the mall and would sit at a table in the food court reading. One day, Spivey approached and struck up a conversation.
``He had this big smile and we shook hands,'' Boyd said. ``It actually took me a while before I found out he was a fighter.''
Not so with Jim Hyman, who works with Spivey at the mall. He's a former Golden Gloves participant who once fought on an undercard headlined by Rocky Marciano.
``Out of the blue, we started talking about boxing in the break room one day and I showed him some pictures of me,'' Hyman said. ``I got a good feeling about him right away and we became friends. We've talked boxing since.
``A lot of people come to this mall just to speak to him. They don't even realize he's a fighter. I've met his mother, his brother. We're friends. As a person, he's the greatest.''
Hyman has reviewed Spivey's style and his 5-0 mark and insists his friend has a chance to move up the ladder.
``He's better at covering up right now, better defensively,'' Hyman said. ``He doesn't get overconfident anymore, doesn't rush into anything. He picks his spots, which makes his moves more effective.''
If his first five fights are any indication, part of Spivey's strategy may be to kill his opponents with kindness.
Against Calvin Moody in May, a Spivey left sent Moody's mouthpiece flying. Rather than move in and end it, Spivey stunned his corner by backing away and waiting as Moody recovered the mouthguard and shoved it back between his teeth.
After tonight, Spivey laces them on again in seven days at David's in Portsmouth. On the 28th, he'll fight an as yet unnamed opponent at Rogue's in Virginia Beach.
The plan is for him to fight twice a month until he develops the experience and reputation as a junior welterweight. He worked out before Lou Duva, one of Sweetpea Whitaker's managers, recently.
Like Whitaker, Spivey began boxing after a chance meeting and invitation from local trainer Clyde Taylor, now deceased. He had been a cornerback and fullback on the Manor football squad.
He's also trained with locals Robert Bonds and Bobby Jordan before recently joining up with Chris Beavers, son of the Virginia State boxing commissioner.
If determination is any indication, Spivey should have a long, illustrious career. Five mornings a week, he's up at 7, hurries to the mall to eat breakfast with his retired friends, then works from 8 to 4. He leaves home at 5:45 and heads to the gym, where he works out until 8:30. By 9, he's in bed.
For a change of pace, Spivey runs 6 miles around Mt. Trashmore every weekend.
``This is the gift God's given me,'' Spivey said. ``My hope is to be a good boxer, a champion, and to inspire kids.''
Why not? He's already inspired one generation of people he never imagined would even care. ILLUSTRATION: Staff color photos by D. KEVIN ELLIOTT
Dorin Spivey: ``Hearing them behind me, they've made me stronger.''
Fans Dave Aubrey, left, and James Beavers root for Spivey at a
recent fight.
by CNB