Two minutes into the round, shortly after a right hand from Reed sent shockwaves through his chin, Osenohan Vazquez stopped speaking Spanish. A right uppercut caused the referee to call the fight, but Reed had strategically pulverized his opponent's midsection to set up the punch.
Vazquez needed two English words to pay respect to the fighting philosophy of the 22-year-old known as "Yes Indeed." Pummel the body, and the head will fall.
"Body, body, body," Vazquez repeated. "Body hurt."
The 140-pound fight could be seen only by those inside Prudential Center in Newark but helped build a case that the 5-foot-6 Reed could be destined for wider audiences. He looked ready for prime time.
Reed (15-0) is nearing his ultimate goal: a title fight.
As an amateur, Reed won Silver and Golden Gloves tournaments. He went to the U.S. Olympic trials but fell short of qualifying for the 2012 team that went to London. Since he signed a contract with promoter Top Rank, Reed's first widely televised fight and a title shot have crept closer.
"All of our matchmakers feel he will be making a big mark on the sport of boxing," Top Rank founder and CEO Bob Arum said in a news conference. "Without much time passing, he will be appearing on the stage in a big televised fight on HBO, on our pay-per-view events or on TruTV. He is one of the brightest lights in boxing."
Reed can move and flutter, but he is a banger, a power puncher. Soft spoken and relaxed off the clock, Reed is confrontational and direct in the ring.
For his 15th professional bout, Reed had a quick turnaround against Luis Joel Gonzalez on June 13 at Madison Square Garden Theater in New York.
Reed claimed a unanimous decision. Only eight of his 15 victories have come via a stoppage, and every knockout has the power to expedite Reed's rise.
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Reed put on gloves at age 6, fighting in the streets for fun. Before he was christened "Yes Indeed" by a substitute teacher at Mattawoman Middle School in Waldorf, Maryland, Reed was a doughy boy affectionately called "Mookie."
He watched his brothers box and liked to talk trash. As his father and trainer, Michael "Buck" Pinson, put it, Reed was always buckin'.
Reed's first amateur fight was in the parking lot of the Tiger Market on Southern Avenue in Oxon Hill, Maryland. The 10-year-old, 106-pound boy was nervous, an emotion he could remember feeling only twice in his fighting career.
"My heart dropped, but once I got wrapped up, geared up, it was like I had been there," Reed said. "I felt like I belonged."
The moment Reed entered the ring, he forgot everything he had learned. It was a slugfest, and he lost by decision. Expecting a scolding from his father, Reed instead found Pinson laughing.
"What made it funny was, Michael has always had plenty of heart," Pinson said. "He wasn't scared of anything. What we trained to do, the excitement was so high that it just went out the window."
Pinson didn't have the luxury of paternal support. With an alcoholic and largely absentee father and 12 siblings, he was raised with little supervision in a housing project off 37th Street in southeast Washington. Nicknamed "Buck" for the buckwheat plants his mother used to put in his hair, Pinson fought in the streets and in the hallways of Anacostia High. He took up boxing at 15 but didn't have the discipline to make it his business until later in life.
After a drug deal went wrong turned into charges of cocaine possession with intent to distribute, Pinson took a plea deal to avoid prison. For the past 15 years, his life has been ruled by discipline — a trait he impresses upon Reed daily as the two train in the Dream Team Boxing Gym, which Pinson owns and operates at night after spending his days driving a cement truck.
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Reed and two of his older brothers, Tyrell Newton and Victor Brown, were Pinson's first trainees when the gym opened in 2007. The baby brother had left his mother's apartment in D.C. after a school counselor told Wanda Reed her son might not be safe at Anacostia High. Pinson agreed and took his son to live with him in Waldorf.
Reed brought a distinct D.C. swagger to Waldorf.
"We call it 'dog,' " Reed said. "We have that dog in us to where when the going gets tough, it's like, 'Come on up.' "
He racked up medals and belts, winning the Ringside World Championship for the second time in 2007 and adding titles at the 2009 Junior Olympic national championship and the 2011 Golden Gloves championship.
Reed was one of the finest amateur boxers in the country, but he was a teenager. Living under the same roof with his disciplinarian father was becoming stifling.
Heading into the 2011 Olympic trials, Reed had a chance to make the U.S. team for London. But he was not following his father's training demands. He was buckin' again.
"We was kind of clashing a little bit because I'm asking for more," Pinson said. "I kept saying, you're the favorite, but you're not going to win like this, son. You've got to step it up."
The coasting caught up with Reed. He missed the cut for the Olympics. He was burning out fast. At Westlake High School, Reed was voted "most career ready." After graduating, he didn't fight for six months.
One day Reed got a call. Pinson wanted to meet. A Russian novice had reached out for a fight. That was all it took to reunite father and son.
As an amateur, Reed had to sell tickets to his own fights, which got easier with each knockout. He turned pro in 2013, and promotion companies came calling. They offered contracts and deals. Reed saw the money. Pinson wanted to wait. He was drawn to Top Rank from the start.
"I had to trust my dad," Reed said. "It went back to me being 4 years old and him telling me to jump in the swimming pool."
Pinson said after turning down eight or nine deals, he finally got the call he wanted. Carl Moretti, a vice president at Top Rank, wanted to see Reed fight.
The audition was a match against Alberto Morales at Bally's in Atlantic City, New Jersey. Reed won by unanimous decision, knocking Morales down in the fifth round.
"I put the icing on the cake," Reed said." It was kind of like an exclamation point, saying basically, 'I'm here.' This is what you get when you deal with Mike Reed."
After a month of negotiations, he signed with Top Rank.
- - - -
Father and son did not celebrate. They got back in the gym.
"Let me tell you how my day is," Reed said. "Get up, go to the gym in the morning with our trainer, Andre [Hunter.] Get up. Go to the gym. Go home. Go to sleep."
That's Reed's schedule every day for at least six weeks before a fight. Occasionally he will visit a local school to speak. During a recent return to Westlake, Reed told an assembly of antsy freshmen to find a backup plan.
"Sports isn't a guarantee," he told them. "You're one of many."
Perseverance was a major theme. Reed said he wanted to quit in his first two weeks of boxing, but he stuck with it. He said he's tired all of the time, but he continues to train.
Reed posed for pictures with a handful of boys. Most of them were taller. Reed answered all of their questions. This was before the "Fight of the Century." Sure, he would love to fight Floyd Mayweather.
A few days later, Reed was back in the gym preparing for Vazquez and trying to answer Pinson's demands, to put himself in position to fight for a belt.
"C'mon," Pinson said. "Throw it."
A left hook began in Reed's feet. The punch made its way through his hips and exploded in Pinson's hand.
"That's bull----. Throw it hard," Pinson said. "Hard, hard, hard."
Already exhausted, Reed put his weight into a combination that echoed off Pinson's mitts like cannon fire.
"Bull----," Pinson said. "Harder."
Since Reed was 10, this has been Pinson's way.
"You can't please him, but that's why I love him," Reed said. "One thing about him, he's consistent with it."
Pinson goaded his son until the work was done. Reed thought aloud. Maybe he would have oatmeal for dinner. He needed to lose seven pounds. Maybe the glop would stick to his ribs.
The next day, rising to work out again, Reed woke up hungry.
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