FORMER CLIENT PERSEVERS, FIGHTS AND WINS.  Student, survivor, soft-spoken fighter
Roger Huerta could have given up. But his fists made him a star while his mind earns a college degree BY PAUL TOSTO
Pioneer Press 10/30/06
Ask Roger Huerta how it feels to get knocked down. He'll tell you in a calm voice about childhood beatings at the hands of bullies and adults, about being abandoned by his parents, homeless and on his own at 12. And then he'll smile, like he can't believe he survived it either.
Life's long been a fight for Roger Huerta, but he's winning. A senior at Augsburg College, he's just a few credits away from a bachelor's degree in business administration. On nights and weekends, he pays the bills with his fists. A rising ultimate-fighting star, he fought last month in front of 13,000 people in the Ultimate Fighting Championship, the major leagues of mixed martial arts combat. It was his first UFC fight, and he won. Days later, with two black eyes, he was back in classes. Yet, he's a mild-mannered business student. At 5 foot 9 inches, 155 pounds, it'd be hard to pick him out of a crowd on the Minneapolis campus. But Huerta's story is hard to match. It's a tale of perseverance and how education can sometimes save your life. "He could so easily have ended up on the streets or in jail," said Bryan Ashford, the wrestling coach at Crockett High School in Austin, Texas, who helped Huerta get to Augsburg. "Rejection your whole life has got to be tough." Huerta found adults who cared about him when he needed it most, he said. He also has that "internal drive people get in rare occasions. That survival instinct is so strong. If everything works out, he'll be a world champion." Said Huerta, 23: "All of what I was going through was so bad, I would always ask God, 'Why is this happening?' " He believes there's an answer but doesn't know what it might be. He thinks he might find it in the Twin Cities. A natural athlete, Huerta rose to the top of his wrestling weight class in Texas, only to blow out his knee in a tournament. Still, he came in sixth, and that, along with a good showing at national, was enough to get the attention of Augsburg, a well-known Division III wrestling school. Ashford and Jo Ramirez, an English teacher who befriended and eventually adopted him, helped him with the paperwork. He didn't know anyone at Augsburg. But when he drove up and walked the campus, he felt this was where he wanted to be. With some financial aid and a lot of loans, he was in. He wrestled the first year but battled injuries and homesickness and a Minnesota winter darker and colder than any weather he'd ever felt. One night, he went to watch a friend, Rich Miller, fight at a bar in Fridley. Miller made $300. Huerta wanted in — not because he thought it would make him rich, but because his fists could help pay the bills. "At that time, I thought: easy way to pay for school. I talked to the promoter and said, 'Hey I want to be in your show.' " His wrestling technique and desire to win drove him in the amateur bouts. He broke his opponent's nose in the first fight. He began training with local fighters, including Dave Menne, a nationally known fighter. Ultimate fighting is really mixed martial arts combat. It combines martial arts like karate with punching and wrestling. Fists, feet and elbows all can be used as weapons. In its early days, it was viewed as outlaw fighting with no rules beyond beating the other guy senseless. While the sport is still violent, there are now rules about fighting and fighter health. It's become a huge business the past few years, a staple of pay-per-view television that draws increasingly large sponsors. Fighters are becoming more famous. Huerta's a young star on the circuit, though you'd never know it from talking to him. Late for an interview, he couldn't stop apologizing. He doesn't brag, doesn't raise his voice, answers every question thoughtfully and occasionally seems slightly embarrassed. Given the fame fighting brings, it'd be easy for him to walk away from school. But that won't happen. He's never lost the view that fighting is a job. "He's never been braggish about it," said Peggy Cerrito, his academic adviser at Augsburg. "He's just very quiet, very un-assuming. He always puts school first. He's never lost sight of the fact that probably 'I'm not going to be an ultimate fighter all my life, and I'm going to need something to back this up.' " Planning for the future comes easier now. In the darkest times, he wondered if there was a future. Nothing's come easy. It's always been complicated. Huerta was born in Los Angeles, but his parents moved to Dallas shortly after he was born but then separated, and his life unraveled. He and his little sister spent years jerked between parents and foster care, sent to live with family in El Salvador during that country's bloody civil war, then later Mexico, where he hustled gum and rosaries to tourists. His father brought him back to Texas but became addicted to drugs. Neither of Roger's parents could take care of him. He was 12, homeless, owning only the clothes on his back. He says he joined a gang and lived on the streets. Life could have spun out easily then, into drugs and crime and early death. But he liked school. He could eat breakfast and lunch there for free, and he kept going. By 15, he was following a friend and his family to Crockett High, where he met Ashford and Ramirez. He doesn't know where his parents are now. "With all the things that happened to him, he could really be a bitter person about life and everybody. But he isn't," said Ramirez, who officially adopted Huerta a few years ago. "I just know that he's definitely determined to reach the goals he's set for himself." Teens like Huerta, she added, don't think life will give them any chance. "They just think it's impossible. But there are doors there. You've just got to try and open them." Huerta isn't sure when he'll fight next. After winning his first UFC bout last September, the calls to fight again came quickly. But he's so close now to the degree. He expected to bolt from the Twin Cities after graduation. But things have changed. His mentor plans to open a gym in St. Paul this winter, and Huerta says he'll be a partner in the operation. After years of keeping his head down, just trying to survive, he's willing to talk about his past and present now, hoping some other roughed-up kid will see it and know there's hope. Despite the weather, he thinks this might be a place, finally, to call home. Paul Tosto covers higher education and can be reached at ptosto@pioneerpress.com or 651-228-2119. |
