The Contender

By Robert Lipsyte

The breakthrough modern sports novel The Contender shows readers the true meaning of being a hero.

This acclaimed novel by celebrated sportswriter Robert Lipsyte, the recipient of the Margaret A. Edwards Award for lifetime achievement in YA fiction, is the story of a young boxer in Harlem who overcomes hardships and finds hope in the ring on his path to becoming a contender.

Alfred Brooks is scared. He’s a high-school dropout, and his grocery store job is leading nowhere. His best friend is sinking further and further into drug addiction. Some street kids are after him for something he didn’t even do.

So Alfred begins going to Donatelli’s Gym, a boxing club in Harlem that has trained champions. There he learns it’s the effort, not the win, that makes the boxer—that before you can be a champion, you have to be a contender.

ALA Best of the Best Books for Young Adults * ALA Notable Children’s Book * New York Public Library Books for the Teen Age

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperTeen
• Release date: Jan 26, 2010
• ISBN: 9780061995873

Robert Lipsyte

Robert Lipsyte is the author of twelve acclaimed novels for young adults and is the recipient of the Margaret A. Edwards Award honoring his lifetime contribution in the genre. His debut YA novel, The Contender, has sold more than one million copies. He was an award-winning sportswriter for the New York Times and the Emmy-winning host of the nightly public affairs show The Eleventh Hour. He lives on Shelter Island, New York, with his wife, Lois, and his dog, Apollo.

Book preview

1

HE WAITED ON THE STOOP until twilight, pretending to watch the sun melt into the dirty gray Harlem sky. Up and down the street transistor radios clicked on and hummed into the sour air. Men dragged out card tables, laughing. Cars cruised through the garbage and broken glass, older guys showing off their Friday night girls. Another five minutes, he thought. I’ll give James another five minutes.

You still here, Alfred? Aunt Pearl came out on the stoop, her round face damp from the kitchen.

He tried to sound casual. You know James. He better hurry or we’ll miss the first picture.

He’s never been this late, Alfred. Why don’t you go upstairs and call his house? Maybe he’s sick.

James ain’t sick. Alfred stood up.

How you know that? Her eyes narrowed. You know where he’s at?

Maybe.

He’s hangin’ out with those worthless punks, ain’t he, Alfred? Maybe you just better…Alfred!

But he was already off the stoop and moving fast, his sneakers slapping on the sidewalk. Packs of little kids, raggedy and skinny, raced past him along the gutter’s edge, kicking empty beer cans ahead of them. Used to do that, too, when we were little, he thought. One thing I could always do better than James. I was always faster. Big deal. He slowed down.

He stopped at the mouth of the alley, and took a deep breath. What am I, James’ shadow or something? I don’t need him. But he marched to the basement steps, and plunged down into the clubroom.

Hollis and Sonny were sprawled on the long, sagging couch, snapping their fingers to a scratchy record. Major was flexing his arm muscles at the cracked mirror over the mop sink. Only James, trying to read a magazine in the dim light of the naked bulb, looked up.

Hey, man, what’s happening?

Nothing much, said Alfred. Ready to go to the movies?

Not unless it’s free night, said James.

I got some money, said Alfred.

Major turned slowly and let his muscles relax. How much you got, Alfred?

Sonny and Hollis stopped snapping.

I said, ‘How much you got, Alfred?’

Nothing, mumbled Alfred, staring down at the tips of his sneakers.

You the only one workin’, and you got paid today, said Major. What you got?

Gave it to my aunt, said Alfred.

‘Gave it to my aunt,’ mimicked Major. You such a good sweet boy. Old Uncle Alfred.

Sonny giggled, and Hollis grinned, buck-toothed. James looked away.

Don’t you know this club has got dues? Major folded his arms across his bulging T-shirt.

Hollis leaned back in the couch. Go collect the dues, Sonny. Turn Alfred upside down and make the dues fall out his pockets.

‘Turn Alfred upside down,’ echoed Sonny, blankly. He stood up, taller than any of them and almost as heavily muscled as Major. Upside down.

Hold on, said James. Alfred’s my guest. I invited him to come down.

Alfred took a step backwards, nearly knocking over an old wooden chair. Let’s go, James.

Major swaggered across the room, the metal tips on his pointed shoes clicking on the concrete floor. How much them Jews give you for slavin’, Uncle Alfred?

Jews squeeze the eagle till it screams, said Hollis. The eagle screams, ‘Faster, Alfred, sweep that floor, you skinny nigger.’

They been all right to me, said Alfred.

How come you ain’t workin’ right now? said Major, circling until he stood between Alfred and the door.

Grocery’s closed.

At eight o’clock?

They close early on Friday to go to synagogue.

They go pray for more dollars, said Hollis. Even James smiled.

No, said Alfred. The Epsteins are very religious. They don’t even touch money after sundown on Fridays.

That’s a lie, said Major.

No. They even leave money in the cash register so they won’t have to… He bit his lip. Water dripped into the mop sink, small explosions in the suddenly silent room.

Let’s get it, whispered Hollis.

Show us, said Major.

No, I—

You just a slave, sneered Major. You was born a slave. You gonna die a slave.

‘Slave,’ echoed Sonny.

I see you now, boy, old and stooped, said Major, shuffling to the center of the room. Old and stooped. You be scratching your head and saying, ‘Yassuh, Mistuh Lou, lemme brush them hairs offen your coat; yassuh, Mistuh Jake, I be pleased iffen you ’low me to wash your car.’

Sonny and Hollis began to laugh as Major shuffled around the dim, warm room, his muscular arms dangling like a monkey’s, his eyes rolling, his black head bobbing in ugly imitation of an old-time Negro servant. I can see you now, Alfred, good old Uncle Alfred. ‘Yassuh, Mistuh Ben, I be so grat-i-fied iffen you’d kick me now and again, show how much you white folks love us.’

The laughter rose, high-pitched and nervous. Alfred peeked at their faces, black and sweating in the semicircle around him. Hollis and Sonny, grinning and nodding. James’ chubby face was set and unsmiling as Major continued his imitation, scratching his nose, pouting his lips, and shambling loosely like a puppet at the end of jerking strings.

Alfred’s hands were wet.

You come on with us, said James. You know just where to—

We don’t need him if he’s scared, said Hollis.

He isn’t scared, not him, said James. Look, Alfred, you don’t owe them anything.

They gave me a job, said Alfred, surprised at how far away his own voice sounded.

Big job, said Hollis.

Yassuh, yelled Major, shuffling back into the center. ‘Mistuh Lou, I been sweepin’ out your store forty year now, how ’bout lettin’ me de-li-ver groceries on the bi-cy-cle oncet in a while?’

Alfred swallowed hard. They was the only ones gave me a job when I quit school, he yelled.

They fell quiet again.

You come on, Alfred, said James, softly. Whitey been stealing from us for three hundred years. We just going to take some back.

No.

You could stay outside, be lookout, said James.

Major shouldered in between them. You coming?

Alfred shook his head.

Let’s go, said Major, moving toward the door. He turned at the first step, Sonny and Hollis at his heels. James?

Let’s go to the movies, James, said Alfred.

That’s all you ever want to do, said James.

They stared at each other.

You coming, James, or you gonna be a slave, too?

James turned away. He followed the others up the steps to the street. The door banged shut behind them. Fool, thought Alfred. Had to open your mouth. He kicked the chair across the room.

Good kick, man. Where’s everybody going in such a hurry? Henry limped down into the clubroom, dragging his crippled left leg, the perpetual grin spread across his skinny face.

Alfred shrugged.

Play some cards?

I gotta go, Henry.

Hey, Alfred, you know what I’m doing now? Mr. Donatelli, the fight manager, he’s letting me…Where you going?

Out.

The stench of wine and garbage still hung in the moist June air. He jammed his hands into the pockets of his tight blue slacks, watching the cars cruise past. Another year, he thought, be eighteen, able to drive. Sure. On grocery-boy pay. Slave. The bells of the ice-cream truck jangled across the street, and a sudden roar burst from a dozen transistor radios. Somebody must have hit a home run. The Epsteins would be in their synagogue now, wearing skull caps and praying. He started to walk toward his house, then stopped. Aunt Pearl would be sitting on the stoop, waving the fan the undertaker gave away at summer funerals. She would ask him why he wasn’t with James. She would know if he was lying. He went back down to the clubroom.

Henry was punching at his reflection in the cracked mirror. He dropped his hands when he saw Alfred, and the big grin turned sheepish.

Shadowboxing, he said.

Yeah.

Mr. Donatelli’s letting me work around the gym, take care of the gloves and wash the mouthpieces.

Big job.

You ought to come up, Alfred. Willie Streeter’s training now. He’s going to fight in Madison Square Garden next week.

Yeah.

Lotta guys come up and train, said Henry.

Yeah.

Hey, man, where you—

Out on the street again, he idly watched a green-and-white police cruiser slide by, a thick, hairy white arm hanging out of the open window. Alfred stiffened. The burglar alarm, the new silent burglar alarm installed at Epsteins’ the other night. How could I forget about that? They’d never hear it go off. It would ring in the detectives’ office, and they’d call the police right away. He began to run. Got to get to James, got to tell James. But the radio inside the police car began to crackle and sputter, as if it had read his mind. The car suddenly picked up speed.

Silently, a second police car joined the first. Then both wheeled around the corner, roaring into noise and light, motors growling, headlights glaring, sirens howling. Alfred slowed down as hundreds of people came off stoops and street corners, and poured out of bars toward four cruisers parked behind Epsteins’. The doors of the police cars were open, and the red roof lights were blinking.

He heard shouts, and a voice yelled, Stop, stop. A shot rang out. The warning shot.

He started running again, toward the shot, but the crowd thickened in front of him. They caught one, someone yelled from an upstairs window. The crowd surged forward, sweeping Alfred along. He tried to push through, but the crowd was too tightly packed.

The Man, mumbled a voice off to his left. Always lookin’ to put his foot on a black throat.

You sayin’ the truth, brother.

Only reason po-lice up here to watch out for them white stores.

So right.

Police car doors slammed shut, and the cruisers drove away, their sirens on. The crowd began to drift back to their stoops, to the drinks they had left on bars. Alfred passed an old man who lived in his building, and grabbed his arm.

You see who they caught?

The old man shook his head. They hustled him away too fast.

Just one?

A couple got away.

Alfred pushed his way out of the crowd, and onto a side street. He had to think. The three who got away would split up and hide. If James made it, there would be only one place for him to go. Alfred circled toward the park, his hands in his pockets, his head low. He kept his feet moving slowly. Police cars cruised by, and he felt eyes staring out at him. Keep walking slow.

It was quiet in the park. Couples were drinking and whispering on the grass, and the transistors were turned down. He saw the rock, big as a truck, outlined against a purple-black sky, and his feet moved faster, over the small rocks, over the low thicket of bushes. He dropped to his knees and wriggled through the tangle of stunted, twisted trees that hid the opening beneath the huge rock. On his elbows, he crawled into the cave.

He had forgotten how small it was. He could barely sit up. The thin layer of loose dirt on the flat rock floor was cool against his palms, and his head touched the jagged

Reviews for The Contender

[Faisal Ayesh · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I liked it. It wasn’t better than I expected it to be.

[edgoldberg · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

SPOILERRobert Lipsyte's The Contender is a YA classic. It is a raw, realistic look at life in Harlem. Albert dropped out of school and works in Epstein's grocery store. He and his friend James usually go to the movies on Friday night, but one night Albert finds James in a gang clubhouse with Major, Hollis and Sonny. The gang decides to rob Epstein's when Albert mentions that there's money in the cash register overnight. He forgets, however, about the new silent alarm, and James gets caught.Albert meets Henry on the street. Henry is his age, with a bum leg, and works at Mr. Dontelli's gym. He invites Albert to train and Albert takes him up on it. Albert wants to be something special, a champion. Mr. Donatelli tells him he first needs to want to be a contender--work hard, to maybe be something, but maybe not.On Albert's first morning run, he encounters two policemen who joke about him. He's afraid and discouraged but he keeps going. He has one slip-up, discourage that he hasn't had a fight scheduled--a night in the clubhouse because James is supposed to show up. Albert gets totally drunk. He sees James come in and Major slip him some white powder.When he finally does get a fight, Mr. Donatelli sees that Albert doesn't have the fighter instinct for blood. In his second fight, Albert knocks out his opponent and then becomes worried about him. He schedules a last fight, just to see if he can stomach it. He can't.Lipsyte has penned a raw, realistic look at boxing, Harlem and some teens that have growing up to do. Albert is smart but dropped out of school to work. James ends up with a gang.Albert lives with his Aunt Pearl and her three daughters in Harlem, struggling to make ends meet contrasted against his other Aunt, Uncle and Cousin live in the suburbs. His cousin Jeff is going to college and has great prospects. This is contrasted against Epstein, the store owner. Major calls Albert a slave working for Epstein, with no prospects and no meaningful work. Meanwhile Major preys on the weak.Lipsyte's characters are great. Jelly Belly, a fighter who'd rather eat and fight. Spoon (Witherspoon) a former boxer turned teacher who shows Albert that there is something after boxing. Henry, a disabled kid who begins training Albert. They help each other, without realizing it. Albert gave Henry his chance to train. Henry gave Albert the courage to train. Mr. Donatelli is the atypical trainer who cares about his boxers and won't let them go beyond their capabilities. And surprisingly, Epstein, who was a boxer in his day and who bonds with Albert when he learns Albert is training.The Contender is real but hopeful. There's no hope for Major. James, who is strung out, is hurt trying to rob Epstein's but Albert comes to his aid and promises to ride out the storm (both his probable arrest and his kicking his drug habit) with his best friend. Albert decides to finish high school. All in all, The Contender deserves to be a classic.

[jenj5 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I was surprised by how much I liked this book. I don't normally read sports fiction and I would never have picked this up if I didn't have to read it for school. I found the training scenes to be really interesting although I have no sense of how accurate they are because I know nothing about boxing. I did find some of the actual fight scenes to be difficult to follow, but that didn't bother me at all. Alfred's journey to manhood (with boxing as the metaphor of choice) was engrossing and sympathetic. If I can find the time, I think I would actually be interested in reading the rest of Lipsyte's works.

[rosanasantana · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The Contender tells the story of Alfred, a high school drop out living with aunt and his three young female cousins. Alfred decides to learn to box. His spirits begin to rise and he even decides to go back to school. The book is told in thirst person, but follows Alfred's perspective. The book would be appropriate for teens ages 14-18.

[kaledrina_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

"Boxing is a dying sport. People aren't much interested anymore. They want easy things, like television, bowling, car rides."Alfred Brooks wants to be somebody special - a champion. Donatelli assures him that's impossible - first Alfred has to train - train so hard he'll start to feel like it's not worth it, that he should just quit - that he'll never be a fighter at all, let alone a contender. But Alfred is determined, and begins to train, hard. When he's boxing, Alfred doesn't have to think about all the crap going on in his life, it's just him and the ring, nothing going on outside it matters at all. Inside the ring, Alfred can contend with his life.Reading this book feels like a workout, I really enjoyed the writing style.

[speedy74_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I read this as part of Denison High School's English 10 curriculum. A high interest novel, The Contender, is set in the inner city of Harlem during the 1960's. Alfred Brook's, a high school dropout, must make his way in a world in which his best friend is falling victim to drugs, alcohol, and violence, and the Civil Rights Movement is in full swing forcing African-Americans to make choices regarding equality. Amidst this turmoil, Alfred finds that his loyalties are tested between the owner of the Jewish grocery store where he works and a life long friendship. When Alfred stumbles into Donatelli's gym and begins training for boxing matches, he finds out that it takes much more than physical training to really become a contender.Nicely written, The Contender is a book that anyone can enjoy regardless of their opinion about boxing or even sports. The message of the novel is very inspirational and is an interesting read for both young and old. However, given it's rather simple plot, easy vocabulary, and easy to understand themes, I'm not sure this is the best book to read at the 10th grade level.

[ctmsalfa · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

As a black high-school drop out, Alfred has it hard. His only job is to work in a grocery store sweeping floors, and stocking shelves. If that is not enough, his best friend is a new addition to a gang, getting severly addicted to drugsand becoming an alcoholic, wasting away at life. After being beat up by his best friends gang, Alfred decided that he was going to box. Donatelli's Gym was a run down gymnasium with shabby mats, old punching bags, and a blood stained boxing ring. When Alfred walked up the cold, slippery steps for the first time, he was not sure if this was the right place. After meeting and talking to Donatelli himself, a trainer of champions, Alfred gets told he must be a contender before a champion. By meeting many people along in the gym, and support from his whole family, Alfred learns what the word contender relly means, inside and outside of the boxing world. And once he understood the true meaning of contender, he helped other people learn too. I loved this book because it is very inspirational. It shows that no matter where you come from, or how bad you have it, you can always help someone, and make the world a better place. This book told about a boy who was judged by the color of his skin, and he turned that around and he made it good and he set an example for members of gangs and children. I think that this book sets a good example for everyone.Another reason that I liked this book is because it showed how a boy who made a wrong decision about quitting school turned his life around and made things good, and he lived a good life after that. This shows how you can have second chances in life, but you have to earn them. I would recommend this book to anyone who loves an inspirational read, and anyone who loves happy endings.

[sexy_librarian · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Growing up in the rough and tumble streets, Alfred is doing what he can to stay out of trouble. To escape the world of drugs, booze, and theft, he ventures into the world of boxing, training to give purpose to his life. With the help of his fellow boxers, lamed trainer, and the brusque owner of the gym, he finds out if he has what it takes to be a contender. Author Lipsyte, young adult writer specializing in sports, writes the difficulty of growing up in a rough neighborhood, and how to overcome the social constructs.

[mysteena · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Reading this for my Young Adult Resources class. It takes place in the 1960s, in the "hood" and follows the identity crisis of a teen who can't decide how he feels about the political, racial and social turmoils surrounding the civil rights movement. I didn't like it all that much. I felt the emotional turmoil of the kid was well written and pretty accurate. However, the writing style itself was irritating and repetitive. Obviously the author tried to recreate how jumpy and disjointed time can seem in the midst of a boxing match by using paragraphs full of short, one word sentences. I found it bothersome but effective. Perhaps it was the subject matter. I've always hated boxing.

[kbookb · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Alfred is trying to figure out what to do. His best friend just got arrested trying to break into the Epstein’s store, where Alfred works. He did it because Alfred told him the cash register doesn’t get emptied on Saturday nights. What Alfred forgot to mention was the new alarm the Epsteins just had installed. Now, his friend is in jail. Alfred isn't sure why he entered Donatelli’s gym that night, and why he decided to try, even after Donatelli told him he probably wouldn’t make it, just like most other people. But Alfred tries anyway and eventually makes his way into the ring. Robert Lipsyte’s classic novel about a young man learning how to box and live remains relevance today. At times the story is slightly moralizing but a great cast of characters and steady stream of action keep the pages turning. Readers will enjoy following Alfred as he struggles to find out if he is, in fact, a contender. Lipsyte’s fluid, succinct style makes the book approachable to all levels of readers.

[ewyatt_16 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Alfred has just dropped out of high school and is staying with his aunt and cousins. He's former best friend has started hanging with a bad crowd. He's trying to do the right thing and make an honest living with his job. It is hard to do in his neighborhood after he's jumped by guys in the street, he decides he might want to train to be a boxer. The head of the gym, Mr. Donatelli, tells him that it's not enough to want to be a champion but instead he should hunger to be a contender. Although boxing requires lots of discipline and hard-work, it also introduces Alfred to a new network of people and positive role models. Alfred sees his best friend James take a different path that leads to getting strung-out on heroin. Although Alfred doesn't have the killer instinct to be a fighter, he proves himself to be a worthy contender in the ring and in life.

[travenwill · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Alfred Brooks is a high school dropout with a job that is getting him nowhere. His life is nothing but a series of problems that seem to be getting worse. Now he is being hunted by gang members for something he did not do. One night as he is being chased, he slips into a gym and things start changing. This is a fast, paced book that details the life of a high school dropout. I highly recommend this for mature 8th grade & up boys.

[ahooper04 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is an inspiring book about a teen boy growing up in Harlem who finds success and self-respect through training to become a boxer. An uplifting story that shows that peer-pressure can be overcome with realizing self-worth.

[df6b_jamalc · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is aexcellent book to read. it leaves you wondring wether or not if the young men will make it as a boxer or not. if you love to read books thats going to keep you on the edge of your seat then this is a good book that you just have to read.