BEIJING • Deontay Wilder can’t believe he’s the only bridge between America’s glorious Olympic past and its shaky present.

He’s thrilled and infuriated at the same time. He shouldn’t be the only American boxer left standing, he said. He can’t believe the injustice of a ridiculously complex scoring system.

He seeks relief by looking to the days when America meant boxing dominance. When he finishes workouts at the Olympic Training Center, Wilder looks at names of past gold medal winners.

“Great names,” he said.

He’s right about that. He sees Muhammad Ali, Floyd Patterson, George Foreman and Sugar Ray Leonard.

“I always think about my name being there, too,” he said.Wilder, a 22-year-old heavyweight, still has a chance at gold. He edged Morocco’s Mohammed Arjaoui in a controversial – what else is there in amateur boxing? – decision Sunday at Workers’ Gymnasium.

With a few seconds left in Wilder’s bout, the United States seemed on its way to its first Olympic medal shutout. The U.S. has won boxing medals in every Olympics except the 1980 boycott.

But Wilder rallied and kept the Americans streak alive. He will fight in the semis Friday. He’s clinched at least a bronze medal.

Even in victory, Wilder wasn’t happy.

“We’ve been getting robbed,” he said, griping about the judges. “… For me to be the last one? … It hasn’t been fair, man.”

He was complaining about judges’ bias against American boxers. This has been the team’s theme during this bizarre competition.

Boxing and crying don’t go together, but at this edition of the Olympics tears and punches are constant companions.After many fights, a boxer moans and sobs about being robbed. It’s a strange sight, all these crying warriors, but this is a strange version of the sport.

Amateur boxing tries, and fails, to redefine boxing. The sport, at its brutal essence, is about hurting people. The intricate amateur rules turn boxing into a confusing dance.

If you find someone able to make a sound defense of amateur boxing rules, please have him or her give me a call. The mystery of the sport opens the door to constant complaining.

American welterweight Demetrius Andrade lost Sunday in a close bout with South Korea’s Jungjoo Kim. As the bout ended, Andrade rested his head on the ropes near Kim’s corner. He stared at the mat, devastated. He already knew he had lost.

“Damn,” Andrade said to himself, “they put the Jones on me.”

He referred to the infamous 1988 Olympic gold medal bout between Roy Jones and South Korea’s Park Si-Hun. Jones outpunched Si-Hun, 86-32, but lost. Or at least judges said he lost.

Later, evidence surfaced judges had been bribed to rule in Si-Hun’s favor. The fight remains an eternal blot on Olympic boxing.

Andrade flatters himself. No one put “the Jones” on him. He lost the fight. This was no robbery.

After his loss, Andrade walked into the U.S. locker room and began weeping. Wilder tried to prepare for his fight and console his friend at the same time. He soon determined this was one combination he couldn’t handle.

He asked Andrade to stop crying. He needed to prepare for his own battle.

But Americans aren’t the only ones suffering.

During Wilder’s conversation with reporters, Arjaoui stood a few feet away, a towel covering his bowed head. He was weeping.

Arjaoui’s coach, Mohammad Raiss, waved his hands and talked in a loud voice.

The decision, he said through an interpreter, had not been “just.”-Contact the writer: Columnist David Ramsey can be reached at 476-4985 or david.ramsey@gazettedev.gazette.com. Check out David’s blog at http://daveramseysez.freedomblogging.com

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