By Michael Katz

Photo © Ed Mulholland/FightWireImages.com

He knew the baby would be a boy, long before he even met the woman who would be its mother. With just as much certainty, Kendall Holt knows he will be returning to Paterson, N.J., with a world title and so what if the champion has the home-ring advantage and one of the judges hails from the same town in Colombia and another judge has the same last name?

Kendall Holt, son of an abusive father and a mother who did time for first-degree manslaughter, has been challenging fate ever since living on the streets after being shuttled to various foster homes. On Saturday, in Barranquilla, he faces a considerably lesser challenge when he tries to take a junior welterweight belt from Ricardo Torres.

But win, lose or technical draw - Holt has already become one of the cuddliest stories in boxing.

"I love the person I am," he said, and he wasn't talking about being a boxing champion.

"I want people to understand that I have other goals than being an undisputed champion or on the pound-for-pound list. I want more out of boxing than just brain damage."

He still wants to win the belt Saturday. It doesn't figure to be easy, even if the bookmakers have established Holt as the 8-5 favorite. As the late great trainer, Freddie Brown, used to caution, "When you're out of town, you're out of town."

Winning on the road is seldom easy in boxing, but considering the road Holt had to take to get where he is, the toughest segments have already been successfully negotiated. Holt is 26 and his feel-good story is being written by a local fight writer and member of BoxingScene.com's staff, Keith Idec.

Yeah, it's too bad no American TV is going to accompany Holt to Colombia. Forget television. This is the stuff of which Hollywood movies are made.

There was the time when Holt was seven-years-old and getting ready for school when his father asked him if he knew the meaning of the word "murder." He then showed young Kendall that day's newspaper. There was a picture of his mother, who had been arrested, and later convicted, of first-degree manslaughter.

His mother was a drug dealer and apparently one deal went very, very bad. She got out of prison two-years-ago and started working on repairing their relationship when she was hit by cancer.

"But she's doing well," said Holt, "she's working two jobs. K-Mart and McDonald's."

During his troubled school days, Holt also dealt drugs. Very briefly, said Idec.

"He said it was easy money, but it felt wrong so he stopped," Holt's Boswell said before he started packing to represent BoxingScene.com in Barranquilla this weekend.

Abused kids often turn into abusive parents. In a phone interview from his Poconos training camp, Holt said he was determined the ugly cycle would stop with him. "When I was a kid, I couldn't wait to have a son," he said. "There was no way I was going to have a daughter."

Nothing against little girls, he said, but he just "knew," the same way he "knows" that he is going to win Saturday. Call it manifest destiny.

Keshon Holt, now four-years-old, was the product of a brief affair. The mother, Holt said, lives "somewhere in Paterson." She did not fight when he sought full custody in 2005 and the court ruled that it was "in the best interest" of the boy not to be brought up in a home where there was no electricity before she was eventually evicted.

But even before gaining custody - "Oct. 26, 2005," he said as if the date were July 4, 1776, or Dec. 7, 1941 - Holt said "I was with him every day, he is my dream come true."

He had Keshon in camp for three weeks, taught him "how to write his ABC's, how to write his own name."

The proud father said he didn't want any other children, said he wants to concentrate on raising Keshon. "He's very respectful, he wants to be on TV," he said.

The old man may have beaten him, but he did introduce young Holt to boxing. "He fought as an amateur and he was my first trainer," said Holt.

The lessons began in the basement, continued in the backyard. It turned out Holt was a natural. But he was already an experienced street fighter from the turf battles of Paterson, a gritty mill town in northern Jersey. Last time I was in Paterson it was to see then teenaged Tony Ayala Jr., who was in the local jail awaiting trial on the sex assault crime that would put him in prison for 17 years.

Holt was from North Main Street, a neighborhood that abutted what is known as "Twelfth Av," (short for "Avenue"), which is where Ron Aroz, his current trainer grew up just a few years earlier. "Our two neighborhoods were once rivals," said Holt, who remembers seeing Aroz box as an amateur. He became the trainer's first pro fighter.

He said he "always knew boxing was the foundation of my life," said that he didn't mind the "intensity of training because I knew I wasn't about to walk into a boardroom or become a successful stockbroker."

"This is my talent, my God-given talent," he said.

That's what he says now. Idec said it wasn't until the last couple of fights that it began to sink in that, hey, he could make it, that he didn't have to be a fireman or a banker.

Back in 2004, he was kind of coasting, not sure boxing was the best way to support his son. He had asked Idec if the writer could help him get a job. Idec hooked him up with a sometime fight manager, Henry Cortes, who owns an electric company. Holt became an apprentice electrician; Cortes is now his manager.

He was getting ready to take the civil service test, intent upon becoming a fireman. He had a son to support and he was going to do it the right way. Boxing seemed too random, especially when he went into Chicago in 2004 to face a tall welterweight named Thomas Davis.

Holt was coming off a first-round knockout with an uppercut/hook that made ESPN's highlight reels for a week. Maybe, said Idec, he thought he was invincible. He obviously didn't train very hard for Davis, then discovered his opponent was a hard puncher almost a half-foot taller.

"Kendall was beating the crap out of him," said Idec, but as Holt went for the finish he ran into a right hand.

Holt went down, only to get dropped by another right. With one second remaining in the opening round, one second before he could get a needed rest on his stool, the bout was stopped. It's the only loss on his 22-1 ledger with 12 knockouts.

Before he had a chance to train for running into burning buildings, he knocked out David Diaz in 2005 - yes, the current lightweight belt-holder who just sent Erik Morales into retirement with a loss. It was the first professional defeat for Diaz, who had denied Zab Judah a spot on the 1996 Olympic team.

At the time, though, no one thought Diaz was a future pro title-holder. And besides, the light-hitting Chicago fighter had Holt down in the second round. Yes, the 5-foot-9 Holt, who turned pro with Lou Duva - he is now somewhat estranged from his promoter, Dino Duva - looked terrific at times. Consistency was another thing.

But his last two victories, in what effectively were WBO eliminators, gave him the confidence to go into Colombia and escape with a title ("escape" might be an operative word - Idec said he read that 75 percent of the world's kidnappings took place in that drug-ridden country).

Last November, he spoiled Isaac Hlatshway's 25-0 record with a one-sided 12-round decision. Hlatshway, from South Africa's tough Soweto township, had beaten Nate Campbell, Cassius Baloyi and Phillip N'Dou. Holt knocked him down in the ninth, 11th and 12th rounds.

Then, earlier this year, he handily outpointed Michael Arnaoutis  over 12 rounds. Arnaoutis was the Greek southpaw Torres beat - by split decision - to win the vacant WBO belt. We know better to use comparative scores to judge college football or basketball, but there seems to be some rationale for the bookmakers to list Holt as the favorite.

Yet, on paper, this is a highly competitive matchup. Ricardo Torres, like Holt, has only one loss as a pro. But his was to Miguel Cotto, now recognized as one of the rising young stars of boxing. Cotto, who was then struggling to make 140 pounds, was dropped by Torres in the second round and wobbled a couple of other times before collecting himself to drop Torres a total of four times before the bout was stopped in the eighth.

That was Torres's first appearance in the United States and so his 31-1 record, with 27 knockouts, is a tad suspicious. Most of his victims came from Colombia. In his only other States-side start, he struggled to the split decision over Arnaoutis .

"I didn't see that fight," said Holt, "but everyone I spoke to gave the fight to Arnaoutis ."

He doesn't talk with an attitude. In another voice, perhaps it would be talking trash, but in Holt's calm, measured tones, his opinion of Torres sounds as impersonal as a stockbroker's analysis.

"I think he's a fighter," said Holt, offering high praise. "His skill level, compared to mine, is inferior. If anything, he's a top prospect campaigning as a champion."

That's probably true in a few other cases. Skills be damned, Torres is a dangerous puncher, though his punches are often wide.

"Styles make fights," said Holt, not exactly revealing government secrets. He said Torres is a bit like the aggressive Diaz, but with more of a kick. Holt likes guys to attack.

"If David Diaz wants a rematch," he said, "I could make 135."

Holt said Saturday would match the "boxer vs. the brawler." He said he had to remember which role he should play, that he was still "a work in progress."

"I'm the boxer in most cases," he said. "But I love to fight. I'd rather get in there and mix it up."

Trainer Ron Aroz has been disciplining him over the years, lecturing him about this is a business and there's no profit in taking punches, no bright future with Keshon if his son can't understand his words.

That he has been able to harness his natural tendency to brawl indicates, perhaps, why Holt has been successful as a single father who has escaped a terrible background. Discipline helps build character, I think I heard a sergeant say.

PENTHOUSE: I didn't get to watch it - as far as I know, DishTV is only an annoying telemarketing call - but congratulations to Ivan Calderon for moving way up in weight - 48 ounces - to capture a junior flyweight title from Hugo Cazares. I joke. If you saw any of the pictures, you could see how much bigger Cazares was. Calderon, one of my favorite boxers - I hereby apologize for leaving him and Glen Johnson out of my pound-for-pound list last column, I'm beginning to think I've seen too many punches - had to survive some perilous moments in the eighth and ninth rounds, but early, while still fresh, he was able to put on a clinic. And to those OUTHOUSE denizens who wondered why there are seldom heavyweights on any respectable pound-for-pound compilation, try to understand that "pound-for-pound" implies that everyone is the same size. Try to imagine David Tua, another favorite I didn't see recently as I'm beginning to show some maturity with my pay-per-view bucks, at 105 pounds trying to land a punch on Calderon….Dandy Dan Rafael, the man who invented boxing a couple of years ago, showed his innovative talents on one of his espn.com chats. Rafael was asked by one of his fight "freaks" if Zab Judah wins an ESPN match on Sept. 7 was there anything after that? "Sept. 8," replied Dandy.

OUTHOUSE: Why can't boxing learn geography? On Sept. 29, in Oldenburg, Germany, there will be a contest for the NABO - a minor league of the minor league WBO - heavyweight title between Nikolai Valuev, the old cruiserweight, and some guy named Jean-Francois Bergeron. What is a North American title doing in Germany. Bergeron, who is undefeated in 27 fights but at 34 his biggest victory was over Darroll Wilson, is a legit North American. He is from Canada. Valuev I guess qualifies because the ex-Soviet boxer now lives in Phoenix. Frankly, this is a match that can't be taken far enough away from my sensitivities, another example of why most titles are meaningless these days.

NOTES TO YOU: I hope his doctors are as good as he is with the Q-tips. Say a little prayer for Chuck Bodak, the colorful 91-year-old cutman who suffered a stroke the other day….The "real" 140-pound title belongs to Ricky Hatton, who is moving up to 147 to challenge Floyd Mayweather Jr. for the "real" welterweight championship Dec. 8. Presumably, Hatton will lose. Presumably, he will then return to 140 pounds….In the meantime, another junior welterweight belt holder, Junior Witter of England, defends Sept. 7 against a former titlist in Vivian Harris. Junior vs. Vivian, now there's a matchup that could make grown men cry….I thought the $200,000 fine Nevada slapped on Bernard Hopkins for starting a fight at his weighin with Winky Wright was very reasonable. I doubt if the fracas increased Hopkins's share of the pay-per-view receipts by that much. I mean, do fans really care about boorish behavior, whether Ricardo Mayorga real or Bernard Hopkins feigned?….We should all be leery by now of anything named "tournament" in boxing, but the four-man boxoff to determine a challenger for Wladimir Klitschko at least is an attempt to disguise the fact that two guys already beaten by the IBF title-holder, Chris Byrd (twice) and Calvin Brock, are the organization's top-ranked contenders. Hopefully, either Alexander Povetkin, the 2004 Olympic champion who will have a ten-year-advantage, and home-field advantage Oct. 27, over the 37-year-old Byrd, or Eddie Chambers, who faces Brock on Nov. 2 can produce a new face to be punched…..Povetkin has the best chance of advancing. He has only 13 pro fights, but Byrd looked suspiciously shy in the reflex department in his return to action in March against Paul Marinaccio in the Bahamas…..No, I have no interest in Roy Jones Jr. and Felix Trinidad Jr. The loser fights Arturo Gatti.