Worley Warrior
<p>Frank Bybee, known as the "Worley Warrior," trains for boxing in Desmet. Bybee, 36, was in 17 professional matches between 2000 and 2006, He stopped boxing after being knocked out in 2007. He still spars and trains, and has never stopped thinking about getting back in the ring.</p>
<p>Frank Bybee, a successful amateur boxer who went pro, keeps his collection of trophies at his home in Desmet. Bybee, 36, is a recovering alcoholic and member of the Coeur d'Alene Tribe. He tells the story of his life, one of challenges and victories, in his autobiography "Worley Warrior." The novel is available for purchase online and at the Coeur d'Alene Casino.</p>
COEUR d'ALENE - Frank Bybee has a message.
It's a message of hope, faith and of never giving up, no matter what.
His story is one of lessons learned, and the absolute potential for redemption.
Bybee, 36, says it is the story of a fighter, a spiritual journey.
It is.
A former professional boxer, he now lives in Desmet, a divorced dad, raising his 10-year-old daughter, Santana.
Bybee shrugs off the idea that raising a child alone might be a challenge.
"She's my little partner," he said. His face lights up just thinking about it.
He got his boxing name when he made his pro debut at the Coeur d'Alene Casino. It was 2001, and Bybee was 25.
"They have a big meeting of all the fighters and the weigh-ins, and they asked me for my ring name. I hadn't thought of that," he said.
Bybee had a friend with him who works at the casino. In a split second, that friend came up with a name and wrote it down on a piece of paper.
That's how Bybee came to be known as "The Worley Warrior."
The road that led Bybee to that moment when he got that name was not an easy one.
He spent most of his early years living with his father in Washington, in Goldendale and Vancouver.
He has lots of happy family memories balanced with some sad ones. He never really knew his mother growing up.
There was also a lot of "wildness," and that eventually led to trouble.
As a teenager, Bybee spent 16 months behind bars on assault and robbery charges.
It was the start of a turning point for Bybee. "I got my GED while I was locked up, and I went to my first drug and alcohol program when I was locked up," he said.
During that time, he began communicating with a brother he hadn't known much while growing up. That brother lived on the Coeur d'Alene Reservation.
It was Bybee's first real connection with this part of his family, with his Indian heritage.
For his 21st birthday, another one of his brothers drove over to Washington and picked up Bybee and brought him to Worley to celebrate.
He never left.
During those early days in Idaho, Bybee got involved in a boxing program on the reservation.
He already knew he liked boxing, and had taken to traveling around always prepared for a match.
"I had a couple of sets of boxing gloves that I'd just pack around in my truck, and whenever the opportunity presented itself, I could say, 'All right, let's go. I was really good back then,'" Bybee said.
He had his first organized boxing match at a bar in Clarkston. It was a smoker a friend of his had set up.
"My first fight I had my nose broke really bad and I was bleeding, and I thought I was losing the fight, but then the next two rounds I came back and won and I was hooked then," Bybee said.
Does he love boxing? Yes.
"It's like the biggest rush you could ever imagine," he said.
He recalled reading an interview in which a pro boxer compared boxing to a drug. Bybee concurred, that is what it's like.
"You're really nervous. Then you're really excited. Then there's the cheering from the crowd and that blast of adrenaline," he said.
That first match was the first of about 25 smokers - organized, non-sanctioned matches that follow the rules of boxing.
He was still drinking in those days, and went to rehab a few times.
Bybee sobered up for good in 2000, the year before his first pro fight.
"Boxing helped me tremendously with that, especially in the beginning. In my first year, I had a lot of boxing matches and I wouldn't want to weaken myself," Bybee said. "It also gave me something to do when I got bored. I'd get off work and I would go and train."
He boxed in 17 pro matches. His last was in 2006.
"I got knocked out my last fight. I made a dumb mistake and I got knocked out pretty bad," he said.
Bybee hasn't stepped back in the ring since 2007.
"Nobody in my family really wants me to, but I think about it all the time. I have a punching bag on my back porch," he said. "You can tell by my speech and my memory, that it's starting to take its toll on me."
Bybee said he does worry about his long-term prognosis, especially when he looks at the way things went for Muhammad Ali, who has Parkinson's disease, an illness of the nervous system.
"I've passed all the medical exams for the state commission. I've had MRIs and cat scans. I've been to neurologists. I'm clear to box, if I want to," Bybee said.
He's thinking about stepping back into the ring next month.
Bybee is organizing a smoker that will take place March 31 at the Worley Longhouse.
There will be some kids from the tribal youth boxing program participating, and some boxers from Lewiston and Spokane.
"I'm kind of excited about it," Bybee said. "Some people are concerned, but I'll be wearing safety gear and head protection. I'll be alright."
It might be Bybee's first boxing match in a few years, but it's not his first match.
The game of chess has helped fill the void left by boxing, and Bybee is just as fiercely competitive at board table matches as he was in the ring.
He plays all the time, whenever possible. "I think chess and boxing are similar. In boxing you have no ball, and no teammates. It's just you in there against your opponent," Bybee said. "In chess, there's no dice, no cards. It's just you and another person. There's no luck involved. It's all about the moves. What's he going to do if I do this? Just like boxing."
Bybee's email handle is "BigDaddyBybee," and he smiles when asked about it.
He said he stole it from two-time heavyweight champion boxer Riddick 'Big Daddy' Bowe.
"It cracks me up when I say that. I'm not a very big person," he said.
Bybee, at 5-foot 6-inches, boxed at 147 and 154 pounds.
He took another courageous step recently.
Bybee has published his autobiography. His book, "The Worley Warrior," is a collection of stories of joy, love, heartaches, victories and losses.
It is a story of faith, hope and of never giving up, no matter what.
Bybee said that's one of the main reasons he penned the book, to share a message.
"My hope is that maybe somebody in jail or treatment might read it. They'll see that hey, I've been there and now I've been sober for a lot of years," he said.
Bybee picks up the book, turns to the last page and reads the last paragraphs: "My life is far from perfect. I have memory problems, and I have organization problems. I have a tendency to flip out on people in some crazy rampage if I don't keep a regular connection to our great loving creator. "I know I at least have a chance though, as long as I lay off the sauce, and say my prayers. I attend recovery meetings on a regular basis. I attend church and Bible studies. My daughter Santana is 10. I have been drug- and alcohol-free her entire life. It trips me out how life works out in the long run. I believe I am just a passenger and God is the driver, no matter what happens.
"Gotta have faith, love,
Frank Big Daddy Bybee, The Worley Warrior."