Arnold Classic Europe Champ Victor Martinez Awaits His Fate
Exclusive interview by Ron HarrisIt was Thanksgiving evening. Most of us in the USA were enjoying or had enjoyed a sumptuous feast surrounded by our loved ones in a warm, inviting home. This was not where Victor Martinez was calling me from that Thursday traditionally reserved for stuffing ourselves with turkey, gravy, cranberry sauce and pie, and relaxing in comfort on cushy sofas watching football on massive plasma screen TVs. Instead, Victor was locked up in a cold, gray correctional facility in New Jersey, away from all his friends and loved ones and surrounded by strangers, and subsisting on the cheapest, most basic foodstuffs imaginable— designed to keep inmates alive from day to day and no more. Worst of all, he did not know whether his next stop after this would be heading home to his good friends and his four children, or to the airport to board his final flight ever out of the USA, deported back to his birthplace of the Dominican Republic. This was where Victor's head was at when we spoke.
RH: Happy Thanksgiving, Vic! Not too happy, I'm sure. How long have you been in now?
VM: Almost six weeks.
RH: So, your kids all came in to see you today, I assume?
VM: No, my younger daughter came in once and the other kids haven't been in. I don't want them to see me in here. I really don't want to see anybody because it makes things a lot more grim for me. They come in and leave, and I'm still here. It's just easier this way. Plus I hate to inconvenience people, and it's a whole process they have to go through just for a visit.
RH: Okay, the next question is quite ridiculous in the big picture, but all the meatheads want to know— are you holding your size?
VM: I'm down about 10 or 15 pounds I guess. I'm not sure, I'm not weighing myself.
RH: What kind of equipment do you have access to?
VM: Nothing except a chin-up bar. No weights at all. There are only so many chin-ups, push-ups and crunches you can do before it gets redundant. I'm trying not to atrophy too much, but at the same time I can't worry too much about it either.
RH: How's the food?
VM: Mostly slop. They feed you enough to keep you alive. There's stuff that looks like tuna, but it's not tuna. Stuff that looks like bologna or turkey, but it's not. A lot of “mystery meat.” They do give you tons of bread, but it's all white bread. No wheat or whole-grain in here! We can't have supplements either, or else I would be having my MHP shakes and pudding every day. I could hold my weight if I ate all the carbs and sugar, but I don't want to put fat on. The commissary here makes big bucks selling candy to the inmates. There are guys walking out of here with three or four cavities and diabetes! No thanks. I'll lose a little muscle instead.
RH: What's going on with your case?
VM: It's all up to Officer Ramos from Immigration and Customs Enforcement. He's in charge of my case and he could let me go at any time, give me bail or probation. I'm not a flight risk. Where would I go, why would I go anywhere? This is all about me trying to stay here where I've lived most of my life.
RH: How does Hudson County compare with Rikers Island, where you were for 60 days a few years ago?
VM: It's all the same. Jail is jail. You got guys in here doing federal time and others doing state time. At least at Rikers some of the corrections officers let me work out in their gym and got me some extra food. Working out would really help me mentally right now, but it's not an option.
RH: Are you in danger there? Are you worried about your safety?
VM: I'm mostly worried about controlling myself if a situation came up where someone pushed me to act out to defend myself. I get very frustrated in here with this whole situation I'm in, and the only thing that's ever really helped me control my anger is training. That's where I take it all out— on the weights. It's definitely tough not having that outlet. I don't want to catch another case in here. If you get in a fight here, and especially if the other guy gets hurt bad, you can get charged for that. I let the COs know if someone is getting on my nerves and trying to start shit with me, and not because I'm scared of them. I'm scared of having a felony assault charge on top of everything else. Luckily, most of the guys who want to play a showoff by picking on the weakest guys. They don't bother me.
RH: Good to know. What's a typical day like for you in there?
VM: I got a job working in food service. I made 50 grand at the Olympia, another 50 grand at the Arnold Europe, but in here I work for a dollar a day! But I get more food this way. My shifts start at 7:00 a.m., 11:00 a.m., and 5:00 p.m. I wear an apron and gloves and serve food to the other inmates. It's just passing time. I've been doing a lot more reading, too. So far I've read four books and I'm halfway though a fifth one. I watch football when games are on, but I have to read the close captioning because it's always so loud in here except when it's lights out.
RH: So you're hoping to possibly get out in December?
VM: I spoke to an officer and I'm trying to get my case reviewed next week. I'm not expecting anything. The next hearing I definitely have scheduled is in early January.
RH: How many people in there know who you are?
VM: Most of the officers here work out and a lot of them know me. A bunch of them read MD. A couple of them work out at Bob Bonham's Strong and Shapely gym in Rutherford, New Jersey. One of the COs is Luis Camacho, who has the same trainer as me, Victor Munoz. Others ask me for advice. I don't mind giving it. What else do I have to do for the time being? They're mostly good guys, just doing their job. Not like the ICE agents that brought me here from the airport. Those guys were like robots.
RH: I assume you are hoping to do the Arnold Classic in March?
VM: Yeah, for sure I will do it if I can get out by December 10. Much later than that and I'd really be pushing it because I would need a minimum of 12 weeks to train for that. I would want to do the Flex Pro right before the Arnold too. I felt great for the Olympia and the Sheru Classic and I know I can look like that again.
RH: Why did you hire an immigration attorney from Florida? Wouldn't you have been better off with someone more local?
VM: That was someone a friend referred to me who is supposed to be one of the very best. He wasn't able to make the first hearing, but hopefully this all works out for the best.
RH: What else is going on? How's the restaurant?
VM: I lost it while I was in here. Obviously I couldn't run it, and I was working on a deal to bring some other people in on it, but I was unable to make that happen.
RH: I hate to make you think of a worst-case scenario, but what if you do end up having to go live in the Dominican Republic? Would it really be so bad? You must have friends and family there.
VM: I'm not even thinking about it, because that's not what I'm fighting for. It won't happen. But theoretically if it did, I would probably set up a business in Punta Cana. Yeah, I have friends and family down there, but my kids are here. I'm not in here for me; I'm in here so I can be with them. If I didn't care about them, I would already be down in Punta Cana. Everything I do— especially the contests— is for my kids. That actually helped give me a lot more confidence to be the best. For a long time I doubted myself and didn't think I could win. Then I said to myself, stop being such a whiny bitch-ass. You got to take care of your kids!
RH: At the risk of getting confused as my legal knowledge is pathetic, can you try to make me understand how such old cases are still working against you? How old are the cases now?
VM: They go back to 2000 and 2004, but the thing is that it's not like the regular legal system where you can only be charged once for a crime. When you are not a U.S. citizen and you have a green card, you can be charged twice. And the crazy thing that's totally opposite for immigrants is that we are not innocent until proven guilty. We are guilty until proven innocent. Deportations are at an all-time high since Obama took office. Over a million people a year—1.3 million— are getting deported now. It was less than half that under Bush. Obama was elected partly by blacks and Hispanics, but he turned out to be a puppet. Bush was no saint, but at least he was bold and took a stand. Obama is weak. He won't be re-elected.
RH: Your charges were felony charges, is that what most of the immigration cases are also?
VM: Nope. Most of the people in here, at least 75 percent, are in here for misdemeanors like driving without a license. They are regular people, not thugs or felons. They are here on green cards and they work and have families. A lot of them tried to do the right thing and ask to see an immigration judge, but they still get locked up. There are some old guys in this place that are locked up because of a misdemeanor charge from 20 years ago. It's nuts.
RH: I had no idea, as I'm sure most American citizens don't. (Call interrupted for fourth time letting me know time is up) Alright Vic, I'm gonna let you go. Hopefully you get out soon and all this is just a bad memory.
VM: Me too. Happy Thanksgiving.
Statistics to ponder
Number of illegal immigrants deported
2001: 116,782
2011: 396,906
Who is being deported?
Criminal offenders 54.6%
(includes misdemeanors)
Repeat immigration violators 24.3%
and fugitives
Recent border crossers 11.6%
Others 9.5%
Source: Immigrations and Customs Enforcement
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