As a child Acelino Freitas slept in a room that measured 35 square feet and he would share it with five others. There was no bathroom, little food, and few prospects for the Freitas family as the 1970s rolled into the 1980s in Salvador, Brazil.
His lifelong nickname, “Popo”, is a constant reminder of those roots. “It means milking,” Freitas explains with the help of a translator. “At the age of five I was still milking from my mother’s breast. That’s where my nickname comes from.”
For a child living in difficult circumstances the inability to contextualize can often be a blessing in disguise. Any hardship simply feels normal. It was only after turning 12 years old, when young Acelino’s body grew bigger and his belly emptier, that his relentless hunger made him recognize the poverty in which he existed. By the time he was 13 he’d started boxing and after embracing his gift for knocking people silly his lone ambition was to one day make money for his family.
Today, with the mission long since complete, he personifies health and wealth. His shirt compliments his nurtured physique, the laugh he regularly unleashes is born to contentment and his 49 years are yet to leave any wrinkles on his face. As a guest of honor at December’s WBA convention in Orlando, Freitas – like anyone without a care in the world – is infectious company.
It has been 26 years since he left that small, ramshackle house behind. But quick maths will tell you he was as old as 23, and a world champion for the first time, before he was able to do so. Freitas used his winnings for flattening Anatoly Alexandrov in 101 seconds in 1999, leaving the Russian unconscious for five minutes in Paris, to buy a new house for his parents. “When I returned to Brazil there were 2,000 fans waiting for me in the airport,” Freitas says about the aftermath of being crowned WBO junior lightweight boss. “In my city there were fireworks, live TV interviews with me. It was great.”
Overnight, a national superstar was born.
Freitas laughs when he’s asked for memories of his encounter with Barry Jones in his second defense the following year. Jones, who had only scored one stoppage in 18 victories compared to 23 in 23 for Freitas, stunned all in attendance at England’s Doncaster Dome when he dropped the KO artist in the opening round. “That was a shock,” Freitas giggles. “But then I dropped him six times which I think made up for it. In the end the towel came in, they did the right thing. Barry is a gentleman and I am happy for him that he is successful today.”
Freitas remembers Alfred Kotey snapping his knockout streak by lasting the distance in fight number 26, he winces when recalling the “traumatic” fight with “dirty” Joel Casamayor that he won via close decision, and he marvels at memories of his 2003 barnburner with Jorge Barrios. Yet there’s a tinge of regret that his victory in that contest, claimed in the 12th and final round after twice coming off the floor, was likely the high point of his boxing career.
“It was a war,” Freitas says of scaling that Barrios-shaped peak. “The opening came and I took it [but] we did not plan to knock him out in the last round. God took my hands and put them on the face of Barrios and it changed the fight.” Big names were expected to follow. “Naseem Hamed, he was always running from me. So many were running from me when I made 10 defenses [of lightweight and junior lightweight titles]. I wanted to fight Floyd Mayweather but he did not want to fight me. It was easier for these guys to run from me. You can’t blame them.”
By then the charismatic and handsome Freitas had transcended his trade, at least in his native Brazil, where he and wife Eliana Guimaraes were every inch the doomed celebrity couple. It has been suggested that the level of fame he reached, and the distractions it naturally created, affected his progress inside the ring. “This was not a hindrance to me,” he counters. “I knew I was famous because I was good at boxing. This allowed me to be a good role model for children and I savoured having that standing in my country. A lot was made of my divorce from my wife at that time but this was not a problem for me. We remained friends and we still are friends.”
In 2004 Freitas was criticized for signalling to the referee he wanted no more of Diego Corrales after rising from a knockdown, the third of the fight, in the 10th round. “That is still a frustration,” Freitas explains, the happiness in his face momentarily lost. “How dare people criticise me for that, they were not fighting, they could not feel what I was feeling. After that fight I was in the hospital for five days. A vein split inside my head. I was told if I did not quit when I did I could have been killed. I do not regret saving my own life.”
There would be another surrender, this time on his stool, three years later when he encountered Juan Diaz. “That was hard to take,” Freitas explains of his eight-round defeat. “I had lost a lot of weight, I hadn’t been that active. I still believe I was a much better fighter than Diaz but my coach watched me carefully. He could see that I didn’t have the strength [I used to have]. He didn’t want me to continue, he knew I’d lost all that weight and I wasn’t at my best.”
Freitas all but retired after that 2007 loss. He would come back three times, on one occasion so his son could witness him in action, but the victories that lifted his record to 41-2 (34 KOs) were not designed to take him back to the top. He still harbours ambitions of one day being inducted into the International Boxing Hall of Fame. He clearly appreciates his exploits inside the ring being remembered.
“I am very happy today. Most of all I am happy because now I can help people. My family, my friends and my community. I help young boxers. I give them what they need to train. I take five-hour classes where I teach boxing. It’s something I am very passionate about.”
Those who criticized him for quitting likely look on enviously at the life the boy born into poverty has single-handedly crafted for himself. “I read that I have a lot of mansions and each of them has a football field in the back,” he says, laughing again. “I have one mansion and it does have a [football] pitch but it is for eight-a-side and not full size. I also have a footvolley pitch, a gym and a cinema. What a place to party. It’s wonderful. How can I possibly complain? My bathroom is the same size as that old house I used to live in.”
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