Since the Ultimate Fighting Championship's debut at McNichols Arena in 1993, Denver has been an international fight capital. The brutal sport was predicted to fall early, but it withstood the first-round onslaught and became the fastest-growing sport in the world. Today, gyms located in the metro area continue to pump out world-class talent, including Dustin Jacoby and Brandon “Raw Dawg” Royval, the #3 featherweight contender from Factory X, as well as Justin Gaethje, former BMF title holder, and Cory “The Sandman” Sandhagen, #4 bantamweight contender of Elevation Fight Team.
Colorado's elevation lends itself to cardio training, drawing top talent from around the globe. If you want to be the best and fight the best, a pilgrimage here is required. For the better half of the last decade, I've dedicated my photography to capturing the combative sports in Colorado. Photographing cage-side, I’ve witnessed our state’s amateurs become world champions, and a highlight reel's worth of fighters were created in this Aurora gym.
Lumumba Sayers Sr. started this non-profit gym back in 2017, training fighters who tore up the local scene. He funded Heavy Hands Heavy Hearts with proceeds from his moving company, and no one was turned away. Scholarships were granted those who didn't have the opportunity or resources for a fitness membership or boxing training from established veterans. This was a safe space that provided a health-focused alternative to the violence of the streets that preached a Guns Up Gloves Down mentality.
As a man of faith and a former MMA fighter, Sayers brought Christian values to the boxing lessons. Leaders from around the community used the gym as a base for creating other offerings for young athletes. Heavy Hands Heavy Hearts grew into a wide-ranging, multifaceted organization that served countless people. The doors were never closed to anyone.
Until now.
Lumumba Sayers Sr. opened Heavy Hands Heavy Hearts in 2017; it closed a year after he went to jail.
Garrett Franklin
Down for the Count
Rewind the tape to August 18, 2023, when 23-year-old Lumumba Sayers Jr. was gunned down in Five Points. Soon after, a suspect in his murder was arrested, but the charges were eventually dropped. 
Lumumba Sayers Sr. opened Heavy Hands Heavy Hearts in 2017; it closed a year after he went to jail.
Garrett Franklin
It was a gut punch for Sayers Sr. His son had followed in his father's footsteps, advocating for solutions to local quarrels that didn’t involve guns and bullets. The Heavy Hearts team came together to honor his legacy, and kept the gym going.
But almost a year after the death of Lumumba Sayers Jr., on August 12, 2024, witnesses say they saw his father shoot a man in the back of his head, killing him instantly. Twenty-eight-year-old Malcolm Watson wascelebrating his son’s birthday in a Commerce City Park.
Lumumba Sayers Sr. was arrested and charged with first-degree murder. He remains in jail on a $5 million bond; he pleaded not guilty in March.
Heavy Hands tried to hold on, but it was on the ropes. The gym finally closed in August, unable to cover costs. But the team keeps fighting.
A1 Boxing Academy Keeps the Fight Going
Colorado’s no stranger to gun-related violence. A1 Boxing Academy is located in Aurora's Town Center, site of the Dark Knight mass shooting in 2012.Glenn Goodson, who's still listed as a "case manager" and "fitness coach" on heavyhandsheavyhearts.org, founded A1 Boxing Academy here, a prime spot to reach people looking for access to fitness and mixed-martial-arts programs. It's also a temporary home for the remaining members of Heavy Hearts.
Goodson continues to serve as a mentor for underserved youth. His kind eyes greet all visitors, and his hand gently motions to the end of the gym, where Derric Samuels is sparring.
Samuels finishes the round with fitness coach Oshae Wilson. Samuels was the behavioral interventionist when Lumbaby Sayers Sr. ran Heavy Hands. Since the gym closed, Samuels has been meeting with other former staffers, like Wilson and Goodson, to find spaces to train. Safe areas with professional guidance are crucial for these growing athletes if they are going to survive the fight game. Another round starts and ends, and Wilson takes a breather in his corner.
Wilson was unhoused when he started with Heavy Hearts in 2017. The program was his salvation; he says it "saved: his life. He recalls his time as a student fondly, and after graduation he stayed around to give back as a staffer. “We need to improve," Wilson says."It's not all about losing and winning. It’s about improving all around, not only out in the community, but with everything we do. That's a message Heavy-Hands always had, especially Sr. and Jr. That’s all they were about.”
Wilson’s optimism is contagious, and while the group here today is small, it's enthusiastic.
After giving a young woman tips on her spar with a taller gentleman, Samuels sits and reflects on the theory behind Heavy Hands. “I want a place that's like almost free — but people come in, bring their little kids, 'cause if the little kids see their parents training,working out, they’ll just naturally start doing it at home. And then those kids stay out the street," he recalls.
He's now looking for a spot where he can start a successor to Heavy Hands, to continue the work. Samuels stresses how vital community involvement was at the start of Heavy Hands, and how that need hasn't gone away. Any help from people who have potential spaces or can act as training collaborators is welcome, he adds.
After all, the Sayers didn’t operate alone; it took a village to help bring back the youth. Now people like Wilson, Samuels and Goodson keep the faith. When Heavy Hearts finally closed, Samuels says, it was simply time to step and counter.
Lumumba Sayers Sr. Behind Bars
Samuels arranges a phone call with Lumumba Sayers Sr. from Adams County Jail. He sounds composed.“I’m actually on a different mission in here, building the kingdom of God right now," he says. "You know what I mean? Like, the work is still continuing. It’s just in a different aspect...I'm still doing work in here. I'm still helping build the youth up in here, helping build adults up in here. It's just a different fight.
“All the people that we worked with for the nonprofit sector and all that stuff, they backed away, everybody pulled out," he continues. "They wanted us to be on the front lines. They wanted us to be out here being involved, being violence interrupters and all that stuff, and as soon as something like this happens...” He pauses for a moment to remember Lumumba Sayers Jr.
“I always loved my son.... This is no battle for me. This is God's vengeance. It says vengeance is mine to declare...They can say whatever they want to about me, but it doesn’t make it true. I never taught my son to give up. I have five other kids and four grandkids with one on the way. I would never give up.”
Back to Bare Knuckles Fighting
Keegan “The Career Killer” Vandermeer is a bareknuckle boxer making waves in this brutal sport. He trained and fought on cards with Lumumba Sayers Sr. He was always a religious man, Vandermeeer says, adding that he led classes oriented to the word of god.His life was saved by the Sayers family, he says, and he's not alone in acknowledging the healing quality of his time at Heavy Hands. Today Vandermeer trains and fights for BKFC, the most brutal and bloodiest promotion where contenders don’t have the cushion of four-ounce glove. Bareknuckle boxing wasn’t legal until 2018; Keegan earned his chops working out with the Sayers duo. His ferocity and knockout power came from his time training with them.
Vandermeer lives off-grid, increasingly so these last couple of years. It's better for him this way, he says. A follower of Christ himself, he had to take a step back from the team to deal with his grief.
Like Goodson and Samuels, Vandermeer is a lasting example of the reach and impact that Heavy Hands had on the community, and how the fight will continue even as some team members go in different directions. “I don’t think Lumumba was that lost,” he says. “Lumumba was the leader of it all. It seems like there's been such a huge speculation over anything they do now. I think we all need to come back together to help the youth, because I don't want see what we had die.”
Colorado was at the heart of the birth of this sport, and that important role continues. Last September, One Fighting Championship chose Denver for its first (sold-out) show in the United States. Donald “Cowboy” Cerrone, Anthony “Lionheart” Smith and other legends all hung their gloves here for good reason.
The state can’t help but produce fighters...and despite tragedy, the fight continues.
