Lords of the Ring

HERNANDEZ HAS GOTTEN BACK his first set of midterms, and the grades are not good: a D in chemistry and an F in naval history. If he doesn't pull his grades up, he'll flunk out of the academy. But Hernandez doesn't appear to be panicked.

"I'm not too worried," he says casually. Many other plebes are in the same boat as they struggle to adjust to the demanding course load. Academy officials order Hernandez to get two hours of extra instruction each week, and that begins to make a difference as the semester goes on.

But things don't get better for Hernandez in the boxing ring. He wins sparring matches against his classmates but loses two other intercollegiate fights, including a loss to a boxer from archrival Army. By the time the brigade championship approaches in February, his record is 0-3.

McNally doesn't say much to Hernandez about his losses, but his teammates urge him to work harder: to run, lose weight, work on his form. If he wants to capitalize on his talent, he has to push himself, they tell him. That's what they do. A.J. Mallo, a three-time brigade champion, gets up at 5:30 a.m. every day to run. Amir Shareef, who may go pro someday, works out in the gym long after the other boxers have gone back to the dormitory.

Hernandez doesn't follow their example, not during the intercollegiate season and not as the brigade championship nears. He likes to eat hamburgers. And when he gets free time -- which, granted, is not too often for a plebe -- he doesn't run. He fires up the Internet to chat with friends or the girl he met at a dance a while ago.

"He's a little lazy," observes his mother, Rosa Elba Hernandez. "He eats a lot of junk food. I told him, You need to start changing your eating habits." This is the same doting mother who says she won't come to his matches: "I'm so scared, to see his black eyes."

Instead of dropping 10 pounds and getting into a lower weight class where he would be more competitive, he sticks it out among the 156-pounders, the most crowded division.

McNally isn't frustrated with him so much as disappointed at his lack of improvement. Unless Hernandez somehow turns things around before the brigade championship, he won't come close to living up to McNally's initial expectations.

HERNANDEZ ISN'T TESTED MUCH in the first round of the 63rd Brigade Boxing Championship, which gets underway on a mild Tuesday in February. He destroys a fellow plebe named Sam Wuornos, giving him his first taste of victory in a tournament he's been preparing for since the summer. Now he will take on an upperclassman, Nick Carter, a second-year midshipman from Dallas with iron fists and a hard gaze. Carter, a former wrestler, says he switched to boxing because he "wanted to start hitting people."

This quarterfinal bout will be sparsely attended. It is Presidents' Day weekend, and most of the midshipmen have seized the rare opportunity to get out of Annapolis.

When the bell rings, Carter strikes immediately, forcing Hernandez to retreat. Though he is on the defensive, Hernandez is still in control of himself. Twice he drives Carter into the ropes, and twice Carter punches his way out of serious danger.

As Hernandez returns to his corner at the end of the round, he has a bloody nose. Water is sprayed into his mouth, and he spits it into a bucket already full of water, saliva and blood. Neil D'Arco, a third-year boxer who has been mentoring Hernandez all year, tries to pump him up.

"Go body," D'Arco urges. "Two-three, two-three, all right?"

But it's Carter who is on the offensive at the start of the second round. Hernandez takes a step back and drops his hands, only to get surprised with a quick right cross that snaps his head back. D'Arco curses, and watches Carter drive Hernandez across the ring with the force of his combinations. Carter's final punch nearly knocks Hernandez off his feet.

"Come on, Frank, choose!" D'Arco yells into the ring. But Hernandez lacks the strength or the spirit to mount a counterattack. Carter dominates the third round, pursuing Hernandez around the ring.

"Not today," Hernandez says, as he returns to his corner for the last time this season and rips off his gloves. He's run out of chances to live up to his promise as a plebe phenom, but seems more resigned than enraged by his loss to Carter, who will go on to be a brigade champion.

"He's got power," Hernandez says. "I think he's one of the few guys who can punch harder than me. He deserved to win."

Nelson Hernandez covers the Naval Academy as a reporter in The Post's Annapolis bureau.