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When we are looking to Cuba, some recurring symbols like Fidel, revolution, cigars, rum, music and dance comes to mind. A mix of tension and liberation of a nation who suffer from a form of forced enclave for decades. Only in the Olympic games we can discover other Cuban glories: Teofilo Stevenson, Savon, Kid chocolate, Rigondeaux, and many more.  The Cuban boxers, with their mastery, their courage, every four years, succeed in undressing the anonymity and getting out in the light. Names and surnames of men so far unknown. On the ring, they seem to move with damn lightness, but in their blows there's all the anger of the sky that holds them in a cage... In Cuba, a professional sport does not exist by law. Athletes do not perceive wages. On the other hand there are gyms and trainers who follow the athletes for free... and just for a few local newspaper articles, a passage on international tv... and suddenly their lifes returns the same every day. Boxing gyms are often outdoors, in the most fortunate cases there are poor rooms where boxers are preparing. Human silhouettes of lightning shots move uninterruptedly. The religious silence of the workouts is interrupted by short moments of suffering also devoured by the hunger of the athletes... hunger for a moment of light. The ring... The impossible dream of a job as a professional in a foreign country is in front of them... Some have emigrated for years as national team trainers in foreign countries and then came back from the nostalgia of their roots... and there are those who run and challenge themselves to the limit by chasing the dream of a different life ... CUBA AND THE ART OF BOX.

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