From jail to jubilation for Richardson Hitchins’ trainer Lenny Wilson

On a crisp December night in San Juan, Puerto Rico, Richardson Hitchins collapsed to the floor of Coliseo Roberto Clemente, his arms raised in triumph, clutching the IBF junior welterweight title after a split decision victory over Liam Paro.

Hitchins headlined Matchroom Boxing’s first major show of the final month of the year, edging Paro on two of three judges’ scorecards in what many felt should have been a unanimous decision.

The victory marked a coronation for Hitchins, fulfilling a dream he had since first lacing up a pair of gloves. Standing nearby was his longtime trainer, Lenny Wilson, quietly savoring the moment. 

For Wilson, this wasn’t just another fight – it was years spent molding not just a fighter, but a man for boxing’s biggest stage.

Wilson’s words between the fourth and fifth rounds may have turned the tide. Despite believing Hitchins was ahead, Wilson saw signs the fight might be getting away from them. According to CompuBox, Paro had out-thrown and outlanded Hitchins in three of the first four rounds.

“I was realistic,” Wilson said. “I saw it slipping away. It was the passion I have for boxing, and the passion I have for him to win. There was so much at stake, and I just felt that sense of urgency.”

That urgency wasn’t born overnight. It was forged through decades of struggle, setbacks and redemption.

Boxing has always been in Wilson’s blood, but his path to that night was anything but smooth. His dreams of becoming a fighter were derailed in his youth, when he was incarcerated for 10 years for a crime he prefers not to discuss. Behind bars, however, boxing never left him. A fellow inmate, Young Georgie Collins – a former sparring partner of Sandy Saddler – became Wilson’s mentor.

“He showed me how to throw my left hook and all that,” Wilson recalled. “He used to call me ‘pup’ and would say, ‘You’ve got a great mind for boxing.’”

Armed with boxing books such as The Art of Boxing by Tom Lotta, plus unshakable determination, Wilson fully committed to the sport. He began boxing while incarcerated at Auburn Correctional Facility, where the program featured titles and competitions. Wilson won the junior welterweight title, an achievement he proudly shared on Instagram.

During his time there, he also earned a bachelor’s degree through a Syracuse University program. Upon Wilson’s release in 1990, he became a social worker, but the pull of boxing proved impossible to resist.

Wilson’s path to Hitchins began 17 years ago when he was training Sadam Ali. Hitchins, 10 years old at the time, did pad work with the trainer. 

“He remembered me years later,” Wilson said.

Hitchins’ first corner man was Aureliano Sosa at the New York City Cops and Kids boxing gym. It was Sosa who connected the two for good. Sosa asked Wilson directly to come to the gym. He’d put it off, but one day Sosa called him with Hitchins in the car, and Hitchins asked him to come by. 

Wilson couldn’t say no. 

“Because it was a kid asking me, I couldn’t BS him. I said, ‘I’ll be over there.’”

What started as a casual promise turned into a bond that would carry them to the highest point of the sport. Along the way, Hitchins tested Wilson’s patience, but his confidence always stood out, as Wilson noted that Hitchins always wanted to spar the big name fighters.

“I put him in with Carlos Adames,” Wilson said, recalling a pivotal sparring session with the current WBC middleweight titleholder. Adames landed a hard shot, making Hitchins blink when he came back to the corner. “Sosa was ready to pull him out, but I asked him, ‘How many fingers am I holding up?’ He said three, so I told him to get back out there. After that, Carlos couldn’t touch him.”

Wilson tested Hitchins against top-tier sparring partners and kept him grounded when his confidence soared, especially as Hitchins always wanted to spar the top guys. When Hitchins needed a wake-up call, Wilson brought in Bronx welterweight Eddie “E-Boy” Gomez, expecting a tough session. Instead, Gomez returned and told Wilson, “Yo, that kid is ready.”

Those moments convinced Wilson that Hitchins was something special. Wilson speaks of Hitchins with the pride of a father. 

“I’ve been like a second father to him,” he said. “I caught him at a bad moment in his life, and I just took care of him like he was my son.”

Though Wilson had worked with other top fighters, including former junior middleweight titleholder Ali and Daniel Jacobs – with Jacobs being trained primarily by Andre Rozier – his nearly two-decade bond with Hitchins and their shared growth made this feel especially meaningful.

As Hitchins stood victorious in Puerto Rico, Wilson reflected on the journey that brought them there. 

“He trained around nothing but world champions,” Wilson said. “He was the cream of the crop, along with Bruce ‘Shu Shu’ Carrington, and now it was his turn.”

Hitchins’ route to his first title in Puerto Rico, rather than his hometown or even the mainland United States, felt fitting for a pair who never had it easy.

“I had to come all the way from the Bronx, all the way to Cops and Kids,” Wilson said. “I got up at five o’clock, wore my suit for work to the gym, just to train him every day. Then, go to work after.”

The moment wasn’t just about a belt for Wilson – it was a validation of a life spent fighting. Fighting for his own redemption, for his passion for boxing, and for the young man who trusted him to lead the way, even when the journey wasn’t smooth.

Now a full-time trainer after nearly three decades in social work, Wilson reflected on what the night symbolized. It was a transformative moment where a coach’s dedication and a fighter’s passion converged, built on trust and commitment, to achieve greatness.

“Maybe all that stuff in a nutshell – that deep passion for boxing – was what people saw that night,” Wilson said of his speech in the corner. “I remember running in the yard [when locked up], and a still, quiet voice said, ‘This is your life.’ And here we are.”