NEWBURGH — Marquise Williams has lived a life he would like to forget.

His father wasn’t always around. His mother gave him up to foster care when he was 12 for being bad at home. He endured cruel taunts from people in his City of Newburgh neighborhood for being tiny and for his dark complexion. He was called ugly. Throwing punches was his way of fighting back, which only led to trouble with the law.

“Dudes picked on me and I was the type to punch and swing,’’ Williams said. “I was young. It helped me, but then again, it’s nothing to be proud of. I was the aggressor but I was the victim at the same time.’’

An anger management therapist suggested Williams, then 12, try boxing. It felt good to let out his pent-up anger on a heavy bag rather than someone’s face in the streets, but beating on practice equipment is not real boxing, and Williams knew nothing about the Sweet Science.

“I thought you just go in there and throw punches,’’ he said.

It was in the humble, makeshift gym at Delano-Hitch Stadium where Leonard Lee, a Newburgh native, former amateur boxer and an ex-con turned church deacon, taught Williams, still just 12 years old, how to box.

Probably helped save his life, too.

Coach saw the potential

“It started right here,’’ Lee said, directing attention to his tiny 14-by-14 foot, no-frills, beat-up boxing ring. Music is playing on a boom box; Lee prefers gospel, the kids cater to modern artists. Songs with foul-mouthed lyrics are banned. The heat is cranked up and, compared to the frigid temperatures outside, it feels like a sauna inside the three rooms used by the Newburgh Hook Elite Boxing Club.

Lee saw a teenager with inner strength, a willingness to learn and a passion for fighting. It was Lee's job to teach Williams how to jab, how to use his powerful right hand, how to use combinations. The tiny, floor-level ring — at least six feet narrower than true fight rings — promotes aggressive boxing and not dancing around. That learned aggression still serves Williams well.

“Boxing is like an art,’’ Williams said. “There’s beauty. It’s like chess, too, honestly. You can’t just go in there. You have to have a game plan. You have to be right physically, mentally and spiritually before you go in the ring.

“I didn’t know that back then,’’ he added with a laugh.

A losing debut

His first taste of amateur fighting came three months after arriving in the gym. Williams lost a decision, though he insists he won the fight. “I gave him a run for his money,’’ Williams said of his opponent, who had 15 fights under his belt. Williams admits he worried about what might happen if he lost his next bout, but he quickly dismissed those thoughts, relied on quality of his training and dispatched his next foe with a first-round technical knockout.

“Ever since that loss, I started going on a rampage, knockout after knockout,’’ Williams said. “I said I would never lose again. I couldn’t stand the feeling of losing, so I got a reputation for knocking everybody out. It felt great.’’

The knockouts ring true of a young Mike Tyson, who rose from his own troubled youth, but Lee compares Williams’ style to former heavyweight champ Ken Norton.

“He is coming to get you,’’ Lee said of Williams’ approach. “He can punch. He’s very strong. He’s very aggressive. His bob-and-weave game is decent, but his jab and movement is better. He knows how to box.’’

Williams didn’t lose again for a couple of years, until an Olympic Trials qualifier semifinal late in 2015 and a national Golden Gloves final in early 2016. Now 19, he takes a 35-3 record into a New York Golden Gloves semifinal bout at Newburgh Free Academy on Wednesday night. Williams and Lee agree that a win in the New York Gloves, and a couple more national tournament titles should lead to a professional debut in about a year.

The newfound love for boxing didn’t leave Williams fully committed at first. The realities of his troubled life kept pulling him away.

“I got distracted being around the wrong type of crowd,’’ Williams said. “I was in and out of group homes and juveniles (court); other than that, that’s the only reasons why (I stopped going).’’

“Newburgh and your peers can be something else,’’ Lee said. “I mean, especially in our neighborhoods. … they tend to lead us down the wrong way.’’

The last time came three years ago when Williams stood before a juvenile court judge and asked for his release from his latest infraction. The judge granted the request only if Lee took him into custody. Lee, a deacon at Newburgh’s Ebenezer Baptist Church, did just that.

Boy becoming a man

“I’ve grown to love him, just like I love my boys,’’ Lee, 58, said. “I stay on his back so he can head in the right direction. He’s told me a thousand times, ‘Lee, you’re a good coach, I love you, you treat me good.’ He can be a good kid. He’s had his problems but we worked through it. … He’s been doing really, really good, and we’re thankful for that.’’

Williams said his life took a turn for the better once he moved in with Lee and re-dedicated himself to his sport.

“I don’t know where I would be at if I ain’t meet Lee or this boxing gym,’’ Williams said. “I am very, very thankful I have a father figure like him in my life that can motivate me when I am down, let me know when I am doing something wrong, let me know when I am doing something right.’’

Williams has grown up a lot in the past three years. He no longer laments having no older male influences in his life, relying on Lee and the coaches he has entrusted during extended training camps in Albany in 2015 and on Long Island in 2016. He has matured into an impressive young man, 6-foot-1, 195 pounds, with hardly any body fat. He wants to get down to 175 and fight pro as a light heavyweight. The pain of his past is a huge motivator once Williams steps into the ring, but beyond that, he chooses to ignore that part of his life. At the gym, he serves as a role model and boxing trainer for three teen boys not much younger than himself.

Williams has moved out of Lee’s home and in with his grandmother in the city, but he still gets to the Newburgh Prep charter school every day and to the gym by 4:30 p.m. for workouts. Getting his diploma is a good “Plan B’’ for what Williams hopes is a successful pro career.

“Ten years from now, I want to be set in stone, with a big mansion, with all my pictures on the wall and all the belts in my weight class,'' he said. "I want to be undisputed champion, retired undefeated, with my coach in the pool. That’s my dream. It’s going to come true.’’

A broad, beautiful smile crosses Williams’ normally stoic face when he thinks about his next boxing match at his former high school on Wednesday.

“That’s going to be big,’’ he said. “I have to make a statement. Oh man, I wish it could come sooner.’’

kmcmillan@th-record.com

Twitter: @KenMcMillan