Boxer/biker Michael ‘Slick’ Anderson rides to the tune of his own engine
NEWARK, N.J. — Michael Anderson is an anomaly in many ways. It isn’t common to see boxers continuing to compete over the age of 40, especially in his home state of New Jersey, which demands more extensive medical requirements for older boxers to get licensed.
But for the 43-year-old known as “Slick,” he can look at himself in the mirror and tell that he still has more to give. After all, in the 24 years that he’s been competing, he says he has only had a busted nose twice. When asked why he doesn’t transition to life after boxing, he ponders why that same energy isn’t kept for the younger boxers on television that he believes he can beat.
Having been self managed for more than a decade, and having invested over $200,000 into keeping his career moving, no one is going to tell Anderson what to do with his life and career.
Far from winding down, Anderson (24-3-1, 18 knockouts) will headline this Saturday, October 12 at the state’s premier sports arena, Newark’s Prudential Center, when he meets fringe contender Daniel Gonzalez in a ten-round welterweight bout for the vacant USBA belt. It’ll be his fourth time fighting at the home of the National Hockey League’s New Jersey Devils, and first time competing in the main event.
A victory over Gonzalez (21-4-1, 7 KOs) would put him in the top 15 of the IBF’s 147-pound rankings, but Anderson is content to go about his business as usual.
“I saw literally maybe three rounds of his fights. It was a fight he won and I turned it off. Not to disrespect him but when I looked at what I saw he brought to the table, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” said the Newark native Anderson.
“The brawler guys, they want to brawl until they get hit. He’s more than welcome to fight his fight and I’m gonna fight mine, and then we’ll see who is victorious.”
For Anderson, his relationship with boxing began with a slow boil and eventually blossomed into a lifetime commitment. He first put on boxing gloves at age 12 when his uncle bought him a pair for him to play around with his cousin. Instead of sticking with boxing then, he followed his father into martial arts, training in karate from age 5 until 13. He didn’t revisit boxing until he was already an adult, when his friend Faheem Gordon told him he was training at a local gym, the Dew Drop Boxing Club, run by Charlie “Dew Drop” Young, who is best known for being the trainer for former heavyweight contender Kevin Johnson.
Anderson remembers being underwhelmed by the sort of training that his friend was doing, which consisted of bouncing on your toes and throwing punches, and thought it would be a breeze.
“I was like that ain’t shit compared to how my dad trained us. We were breaking sticks on our stomachs and getting kicked while doing pushups and walked on our stomachs and pushups on our knuckles. I went one day and they made me spar, I got a black eye, I knocked the kid against the ropes and after that I was like ‘OK, I gotta come back,’” remembers Anderson.
Anderson had a relatively short amateur career consisting of 13 bouts, winning the N.J. Diamond Gloves and Golden Gloves in 2004, plus a pair of N.J. State Championships.
He never saw boxing as a potential career. Why would he? He already had a career delivering the mail, doing his five-hour route daily (except Sundays when the mail isn’t delivered) around the town of Orange. He worked for eight years as a mailman, and had he stuck with it, he may have already been retired on a pension. But you also wouldn’t be reading this story right now.
His career took a turn for the serious in the mid-2000s when he reached out to one of his favorite boxers, “Sugar” Shane Mosley, on the now outdated social networking site MySpace. Anderson messaged him daily, letting the current Hall of Famer know that he was going to the gym to get his work out in, and every day his messages would be delivered without response. That was until one day, when Mosley asked him to send a tape of him boxing. Anderson sent the tape, and then six months later he got another response from Mosley asking him to visit a gym to spar in New York City under the supervision of trainer Elliot Ness, a Mosley associate who also worked as his bodyguard.
“When I went over, I was looking like fresh meat. I handled myself more than well against the bully of the gym and Ness called Shane and was like ‘this guy is the real deal over here.’ When Shane called me, he was like ‘hey man it’s Shane’ and I’d hang up. He’d call back like ‘Stop playing it’s Shane. You got some money on you? I want you to go to the airport, book a ticket, I’ll give you the money when you get here. I’m gonna kick your ass when you get here,’” remembers Anderson.
“I was running when I got the phone call. I booked the flight nervously, thinking I’m gonna get scammed. I wound up getting to the airport, somebody else came and got me. When I saw the mansion I was like ‘oh shit.’”
Initially Anderson was cleared to take leave from his post office job for two weeks, but when Mosley asked him to extend his stay in camp, Anderson was fired for being a no-call, no-show.
Mosley backed Anderson for his first six fights, turning him pro in 2007 on the undercard of his fight against Miguel Cotto at Madison Square Garden. He also fought the undercard of Mosley’s first fight with Ricardo Mayorga in Carson, Calif., and The Ring’s 2009 Fight of the Year between Juan Manuel Marquez and Juan Diaz.
The working relationship began to fall apart as Mosley became preoccupied with his ongoing divorce proceedings with his then-wife Jin, who pointed Anderson in the direction of promoter Gary Shaw. Shaw moved Anderson’s career until he suffered a defeat to Nick Casal, a third round TKO loss in 2011, after which Anderson was dropped.
From that point on, Anderson has been a free agent, booking his own fights and selling tickets to fund his career. Why does he do it?
It’s obviously not because he needs bigger paydays. Anderson has been supporting himself through real estate investments since 2003, when a realtor ran his credit one day and showed him how he could buy property of his own, helping him move out of the one bedroom apartment he was renting from his mother. He currently owns two rental properties and is working on adding a third one.
It also isn’t because he’s in need of thrills. Anderson finds enough of that through his motorcycle club, the Show Off Ridaz Motorcycle Club, a dozen-member group which he started in 2012. Anderson, who has been riding since 2002, previously owned a 750cc bike, but now rides a 2012 Can-Am Spyder, which has two wheels in the front for greater balance. He says he switched to the safer ride so he didn’t end up sidelining his career due to injuries sustained in a crash.
“When you’re on a bike, nobody can bother you. You can’t hear your phone unless you stop and pull over because the engine is revving. You get a peace of mind, it’s just you, you can think about anything you need to,” said Anderson.
There’s a camaraderie among bikers that isn’t shared by other motorists, he says. For instance, Anderson says there are times when he’ll pull up to a light and see other bikers, who will then invite him to a cookout or party that they’re heading to.
“There’s a lot of partying and supporting each other. When people take those bike vests off, they still have jobs. So you might be talking to an ambulance worker, a cop, you might be talking with a social worker. Right now if I posted that I need a job, a bunch of bikers will post where they work at and they’ll pull you through,” said Anderson.
Realistically, Anderson feels he has two more years left in boxing. Having won 12 of his last 13 bouts, including 7 in a row, Anderson could find himself in position to finally get his big break if he gets past Gonzalez.
Muhammad Abdul Salaam, who has been Anderson’s head trainer since 2020, says he hopes to see Anderson get an opportunity at least once before he hangs his gloves up for good.
“I just hope he can finally get a break. There’s been people lying and saying they’re gonna help push him this way and that way, and nothing ever happens unless he’s doing something for them. I just hope he gets a fair shot at one of these guys just to prove that if you take care of your body, you don’t drink, you don’t smoke, you don’t party, then there’s no such thing as being old,” said Abdul Salaam.
One of Anderson’s goals is to fight long enough for his four-year-old son to have memories of seeing him in the ring. He may get a big cathartic climax to his career, or he may simply ride off into the sunset like his bike club heading to a cookout or party in another town. Either way, he has a point to prove every time he steps into the ring.
“I just want to get in there with the guys that say are the best so I can make my point to the world. Like, guys, don’t give up, don’t worry about what people are saying. It can be done,” said Anderson.
“The satisfying part is that I didn’t give up. I didn’t let boxing break me. I know too many fighters who get involved with the politics side and they quit. I say I’m not gonna be that person. Until I make my mark, I’m not gonna be that person.”
Ryan Songalia has written for ESPN, the New York Daily News, Rappler and The Guardian, and is part of the Craig Newmark Graduate School of Journalism Class of 2020. He can be reached at [email protected].