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Sorry, champ, the accountant needs the ring now

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Amy Bridges, a private investor, practices throwing some punches on a speed bag during her training session at Gleason's Gym in Brooklyn. (Denise Terry/CNS)

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Amy Bridges trains on a heavy punching bag at Gleason's Gym. (Denise Terry/CNS)

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Hector Roca, a trainer at Gleason's Gym in Brooklyn, NY wraps up Amy Bridges's hands before practice. (Denise Terry/CNS)

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Amy Bridges practices new moves on her trainer Hector Roca. Bridges, a private investor, recently started boxing at Gleason''s Gym in Brooklyn. (Denise Terry/CNS)

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Amy Bridges jumps rope during her weekly training session at Gleason's Gym. (Denise Terry/CNS)

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Amy Bridges, a private investor, uses the heavy punching bag during practice at Gleason's Gym in Brooklyn. (Denise Terry)

The pictures on the wall at the Kronk boxing gym in Detroit show the faces of its illustrious past: Lennox Lewis, Sugar Ray Leonard, Thomas Hearns and countless other boxing greats trained there by Hall of Fame coach Emmanuel Steward.

But the faces of the gym’s future, at least financially, could belong to people like Eric Kohtz, a 40-year-old private security consultant who first stepped inside the ring a few months ago.

“This is my first experience with actual boxing,” Kohtz said after a recent workout at the Kronk gym in Dearborn, Mich. “Kronk is part of the culture here, so I said, man, I’ve got to do this before I get too old. I had to give it a try.”

Kohtz is a white-collar boxer, one of a growing number of working professionals who are leaving their cubicles at the end of the day and heading for their local boxing gyms. In metropolitan areas like New York, Detroit and Los Angeles, white-collar boxers now account for the majority of members at many gyms.

Not all white-collar boxers actually have office jobs. And only some of them compete beyond sparring against each other. But all represent a growing clientele in gyms that have traditionally been dominated by amateur and professional fighters. They include men and women of all ages, drawn by the intense workout, the rush of adrenaline and the chance to find out just how tough they are.

“It’s on the one hand very scary and on the other hand very uplifting, because there’s always the potential to get hurt,” said Craig Tooman, 43, an architect who trains at Gleason’s Gym in Brooklyn, N.Y. “To get out of the ring after having faced your fears is always a very positive experience.”

Training routines generally focus on conditioning and can last anywhere from 45 minutes to more than two hours, depending on the experience and seriousness of the fighter. Exercises include jumping rope and punching heavy bags and smaller “speed bags.” Trainers also have their clients “shadow box” to practice their stance, balance and technique.

Some of the most accomplished trainers and gym owners do not seem to mind teaching new members the basics. As boxing declines as a spectator sport, any new business at the recreational level is good business.

“Fighters aren’t paying the bills,” said Martin Snow, owner of Trinity gym in New York City. “Our niche is training professional people to fight like professional fighters.”

In Detroit, Steward said the 50-member Kronk gym is unable to accommodate more than the dozen or so white-collar boxers it trains. But Kronk is building a new gym in suburban Southfield, Mich., in part because of growing interest from people like Kohtz.

At Gleason’s, white-collar boxers already make up roughly two-thirds of the gym’s 1,000-plus members. The gym’s owner, Bruce Silverglade, became one of the early organizers of white-collar exhibition fights in 1988. Silverglade said a handful of businessmen had begun working out at Gleason’s in the early 1980s.

David Lawrence, 58, was one of them. He said when he started going to Gleason's, he owned five insurance brokerage firms on Wall Street and often had a chauffeur drive him to the gym in his Rolls-Royce. The other gym members had never seen anything like it.

“They were all shocked, but they all got a kick out of it,” said Lawrence, who is now a trainer at Gleason’s. “It made me so unique at that time.”

It is still uncommon to see a chauffeur waiting outside a boxing gym. But at Gleason’s, there are just as many investment bankers, fashion models and actors as there are heavyweights. Nearly 200 members are women, who were not even allowed in until about 20 years ago.

“I think women see the empowerment in the whole experience,” said Amy Bridges, a 49-year-old private investor who started boxing at Gleason’s three years ago. She said her trainer, Hector Roca, reminded her of Clint Eastwood in the film “Million Dollar Baby.” “I would want to cry because he was really tough, but I wouldn’t let him see me cry until I was on the speed bag on my own, just crying.”

For people who want to go a few steps beyond the speed bag, exhibition fights offer the thrill of live competition and add a sense of purpose to the training. Most white-collar fights are three rounds, with no winners declared. They have been deemed illegal in some states, but Steward predicted there will one day be widespread, regulated white-collar matches and even white-collar world championships.

For protection, fighters use 16-ounce gloves and headgear. But returning to the office the following morning is not always easy. Jeff Cohen, a 37-year-old fundraiser for a Long Island nonprofit group, said he did his best to hide his bruises.

“Sometimes I’ll go tanning, because that makes it look better,” Cohen said. “But when you have a broken nose and a black eye, you know what? You have a broken nose and a black eye.”

E-mail: btc2103@columbia.edu