Glover Teixeira boarded a plane from New York to his home country of Brazil on July 5, 2008. Later that night, Forrest Griffin defeated Quinton “Rampage” Jackson to win the UFC light heavyweight title. When Teixeira heard that result, he made a mental note: Griffin would be the one he’d be challenging in the near future for the belt.
At the time, Teixeira figured he’d be in Brazil for about three months while he got things sorted with his visa. Teixeira had been living in the U.S. illegally for several years. His plan was to apply for an I-192 “forgiveness” waiver, return home to Brazil for a short period of time and then be granted a visa to return.
Teixeira’s waiver was granted. His visa was denied. At 28 years old, in what many would consider his athletic prime, Teixeira was unable to return to the U.S. for nearly four years. Perhaps just as important, he could not compete for the UFC when many at the time thought Teixeira — then a top training partner of legend Chuck Liddell — was among the best 205-pound fighters in the world.
“It was very frustrating,” Teixeira told ESPN. “I knew I could beat 90% of those guys that were in the UFC at the time.”
Thirteen years later, Teixeira is still trying to make up for lost time. Teixeira (32-7) made an unsuccessful bid for the UFC light heavyweight title on April 26, 2014, losing a decision to then-champion Jon Jones at UFC 172. On Saturday he will get a second shot, challenging champion Jan Blachowicz in the main event of UFC 267 in Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates (2 p.m., ESPN+).
Seven men have held the belt since Teixeira was banned from re-entering the U.S. in 2008. Four of them are either retired or no longer in the UFC. But Teixeira is still here, plugging along at 42 years old and on a five-fight winning streak. Along the way, he has made adjustments to remain at the top level, including embracing a one-two combination of science and spirituality. More than anything, though, it’s been a matter of will and determination.
“This is the time,” Teixeira said. “That’s why I’m here. Like I say, I’m not going to go back and think what if this happened or if this happened back then. I’m just living in the moment now. I’m glad here I am now, fighting for the belt and enjoying the process.”
When he fights Blachowicz on Saturday, it will be 2,744 days in between title shots. Teixeira’s 14 UFC fights between championship opportunities are the most ever for a challenger going after the same title. And if Teixeira wins this weekend, he’ll be only the third fighter in UFC history to hold a title at the age of 40 or above, joining all-time greats Randy Couture and Daniel Cormier.
The journey has been long, with plenty of ups and downs. But Teixeira can see the horizon, and not just when he looks out his hotel room window this weekend at the Persian Gulf.
“The only thing that’s missing,” Teixeira said, “is the belt.”
LYOTO MACHIDA FIRST started training with Teixeira in Brazil in 2009, the same year Machida beat Rashad Evans to win the UFC light heavyweight title. Teixeira was stuck in Brazil at the time, unable to return to Danbury, Connecticut, where he had been living with his wife, Ingrid. While living in the U.S., Teixeira had been working as a landscaper when he wasn’t traveling to Southern California to train with Liddell.
Teixeira was trying to make the most out of his time in Brazil, traveling the country and training with the likes of former UFC heavyweight champion Pedro Rizzo, former Pride heavyweight champion Antonio Rodrigo Nogueira, then-UFC middleweight champion Anderson Silva and Machida. Teixeira was 7-2 as a pro at the time, with all but one victory coming via finish. He was used to going toe-to-toe with Liddell in sparring back in California, so he fit in well with his high-level training partners in Brazil. Teixeira had a rare blend of high-level wrestling and grappling combined with knockout power, a relentless pace and durability.
“When we were training together, I could feel that this guy is tough, man,” Machida said of those sessions 12 years ago. “And he has the grit. Even when I hit hard, Glover always came forward, move forward. That shows his spirit, his will to achieve.”
One afternoon while he was in Rio de Janeiro training at Silva’s gym, Teixeira said, a Brazilian jiu-jitsu competitor approached him and said after watching him train that he guaranteed Teixeira would be in the top five in the UFC within one year of being in the promotion.
In late 2011, more than three years after Teixeira landed in Brazil, Ingrid, an American citizen, wrote a heart-tugging letter to the U.S. consulate in Brazil, another effort to try to get her husband back to the United States after several failed attempts. This time, though, the gears were put in motion. He was ultimately granted a visa, and Teixeira signed with the UFC in February 2012.
While fighting in Brazil, Teixeira went 10-0 with nine finishes, including knockouts over former UFC heavyweight champion Ricco Rodriguez and veteran Marvin Eastman. He made his UFC debut on May 26, 2012, scoring a first-round submission victory over Kyle Kingsbury. Teixeira went 4-0 in his first year with the UFC, including a win over former champion Quinton “Rampage” Jackson that established him as a contender for the title. After that fight, Teixeira sought out on Facebook the Brazilian jiu-jitsu athlete who had given him those kind words a few years earlier.
“Bro,” Teixeira wrote,” you were right about that.”
In Teixeira’s sixth UFC fight, less than two years after debuting with the promotion, he challenged Jones for the title. He fell via unanimous decision to the man many believe is the greatest MMA fighter of all time. Teixeira dropped his next fight, too, to dominant wrestler Phil Davis in October 2014.
Four days after the Davis loss, Teixeira turned 35, and at that point many wrote him off. The feeling was Teixeira had his nice UFC run, got a title shot and would eventually fade away like so many others.
What happened instead? Teixeira started making lifestyle and training adjustments that proved all the doubters wrong.
“I’ve always had faith,” Ingrid said. “I always knew that he had the talent. Not that I’m anybody that knows anything. But you could see his drive, his determination. You know he’s something special, regardless.”
TEIXEIRA WAS SPARRING late last month at his gym in Bethel, Connecticut. He did five rounds with a different opponent in each round. Machida, his longtime training partner and friend, was looking on. When Teixeira was done, Machida posed a question.
“I could see his face,” Machida said. “His expression. He was still very fresh. I said, ‘Hey Glover, how do you feel?’ He said, ‘I feel good, man. I could do one more round.’ I said, ‘That’s the time you have to stop training.’ It’s like eating a cake. You have one piece of cake, then you always have a hunger to eat that cake, because you don’t eat the whole thing.”
That cake analogy has been emblematic of Teixeira’s new training strategy. When he was younger, he’d beat himself into the ground during training camp, cut too much weight and come into the fight exhausted.
Teixeira said when he fought Jones he weighed about 240 pounds before he started his camp at American Top Team, and he had to make 205 on weigh-in day. Before a loss to Corey Anderson in July 2018 (his most recent defeat), Teixeira said he dislocated his shoulder three weeks before the bout doing hard Brazilian jiu-jitsu sparring, and he never stopped to rest it.
“When you’re young, the ego gets in the way,” Teixeira said. “You think, ‘I’m a f—ing beast — I can fight right now.'”
After the Davis loss, Teixeira won three straight, but then he was knocked out in 13 seconds by fearsome slugger Anthony “Rumble” Johnson at UFC 202 in August 2016. That led to Teixeira deciding he would do his training camps at his own gym in Connecticut, rather than traveling elsewhere.
Teixeira went 2-2 in his next four fights, relegated to a gatekeeper role in the division. But he was still trying to evolve. Teixeira added meditation to his daily routine.
Nowadays, every morning he wakes up early, grabs his meditation cushion, sits with his legs crossed and zones out.
“It’s super important to him and he doesn’t like to be interrupted,” Ingrid said.
Following the Anderson loss, Teixeira decided to embrace science as well. He began working with the UFC Performance Institute (PI) in 2019, a time frame that coincides with his current five-fight winning streak. Because Teixeira lives in Connecticut and only gets to the PI a few times a year, he’s worked remotely with strength and conditioning coach Kyle Larimer, sports science specialist Roman Fomin and nutrition coach Charles Stull.
UFC vice president of performance Duncan French said Teixeira is one of the most active remote users of the PI among UFC fighters, accessing just about every service the facility offers. Teixeira has an Oura ring, which tracks his sleep and recovery, and is subscribed to the UFC’s Icon Meals program, which delivers just about everything he eats directly to his home.
“His desire to embrace something that was new and novel, I think, was really refreshing and made it easy for our guys to interact with him,” French said. “Since that day, he’s been a super user of our services. It was really insightful on his behalf to say, ‘How can I prolong my career?’ And not just, ‘I can still compete at the top level. I want to push out a few more fights and have a few more paydays.’ But actually, ‘I can still work towards a title.'”
French said when Teixeira first came into the PI for tests, it was clear that his training structure was not perfect, his recovery was “not optimal” and “he was training fatigued.”
“He just wasn’t seeing the benefits of the training strategy that he and his coach were adopting,” French said. “It was a little bit old school. Your classic Brazilian jiu-jitsu — just smash it out and keep driving through the wall.”
Teixeira now starts his training camps at around 220 pounds, making for an easier cut to 205. After working with the PI, he’s not afraid to take a day off for recovery here and there while prepping for a fight.
Teixeira said when he was a kid back in Brazil he would watch soccer, and the players had the benefit of using team-provided nutritionists, strength and conditioning coaches and other programs for peak performance that didn’t exist for MMA fighters until recently.
“You’ve got to evolve,” Teixeira said. “If it’s working, you keep going. But especially at my age right now, I see what can help me. What can I do to be better?”
TEIXEIRA SAYS HE is feeling healthier physically now than when he was supposedly in his athletic prime. He said, half-jokingly, that he might even fight until he’s 50 years old, “like Bernard Hopkins.” That would be much to the chagrin of Ingrid, who has been by his side — either physically or emotionally, and often both — over the course of this long journey.
“He’s competitive,” she said. “But not for nothing, I can’t take many more of these fights. I’m getting older. I’m gonna have a heart attack. I cannot deal with it. When you’re younger, it’s fine. You’re young and you think you’re indestructible. But after 35 or 40 or so — now we’re both over 40 — it’s like ‘Oh my god, something could happen.’ So you start stressing more. The sooner [he retires], the better, as far as I’m concerned.”
Teixeira considered retirement after the Anderson fight, but decided to give it one last run, and he’s had remarkable results. Before Machida left Teixeira’s camp earlier this month, the ex-champ congratulated his friend for becoming “a completely different fighter.”
“I could see his strength is still there,” Machida said. “His speed is still there. And also, he has the experience, which is a lot in favor of him.”
Teixeira has made comebacks to finish three of his last four fights, most recently a third-round submission victory against knockout artist Thiago Santos in November 2020.
He also made a major comeback outside of the Octagon: He became an American citizen last year.
It’s a long way from where he was 13 years ago, when people who follow MMA closely lamented that Teixeira might have been wasting his peak years in Brazil, unable to sign with the UFC.
Ingrid, though, said she believes that her husband’s prime is this current run. And there’s only one thing left to accomplish, seven years after his first try: winning the UFC light heavyweight title.
“This time is us making up for lost time, for sure,” Ingrid said. “I think we’ve even said that to each other multiple times. He couldn’t do it then, so he’s gonna do it now. Simple.”
Thoroughbred racing suffered its most ignominious, industry-deflating moment 50 years ago today with the breakdown of Ruffian, an undefeated filly running against Foolish Pleasure in a highly promoted match race at Belmont Park. Her tragic end on July 6, 1975, was a catastrophe for the sport, and observers say racing has never truly recovered.
Two years earlier, during the rise of second-wave feminism, the nation had been mesmerized by a “Battle of the Sexes” tennis match between Billie Jean King and Bobby Riggs. King’s win became a rallying cry for women everywhere. The New York Racing Association, eager to boost daily racing crowds in the mid-1970s, proposed a competition similar to that of King and Riggs. They created a match race between Kentucky Derby winner Foolish Pleasure and Ruffian, the undefeated filly who had dominated all 10 of her starts, leading gate to wire.
“In any sport, human or equine, it’s really impossible to say who was the greatest,” said outgoing Jockey Club chairman Stuart Janney III, whose parents, Stuart and Barbara, owned Ruffian. “But I’m always comfortable thinking of Ruffian as being among the four to five greatest horses of all time.”
Ruffian, nearly jet black in color and massive, was the equine version of a Greek goddess. At the age of 2, her girth — the measurement of the strap that secures the saddle — was just over 75 inches. Comparatively, racing legend Secretariat, a male, had a 76-inch girth when he was fully developed at the age of 4.
Her name also added to the aura. “‘Ruffian’ was a little bit of a stretch because it tended to be what you’d name a colt, but it turned out to be an appropriate name,” Janney said.
On May 22, 1974, Ruffian equaled a Belmont Park track record, set by a male, in her debut at age 2, winning by 15 lengths. She set a stakes record later that summer at Saratoga in the Spinaway, the most prestigious race of the year for 2-year-old fillies. The next spring, she blew through races at longer distances, including the three races that made up the so-called Filly Triple Crown.
Some in the media speculated that she had run out of female competition.
Foolish Pleasure had meanwhile ripped through an undefeated 2-year-old season with championship year-end honors. However, after starting his sophomore campaign with a win, he finished third in the Florida Derby. He also had recovered from injuries to his front feet to win the Wood Memorial and then the Kentucky Derby.
Second-place finishes in the Preakness and Belmont Stakes left most observers with the idea that Foolish Pleasure was the best 3-year-old male in the business.
Following the Belmont Stakes, New York officials wanted to test the best filly against the best colt.
The original thought was to include the Preakness winner, Master Derby, in the Great Match Race, but the team of Foolish Pleasure’s owner, trainer and rider didn’t want a three-horse race. Since New York racing had guaranteed $50,000 to the last-place horse, they paid Master Derby’s connections $50,000 not to race. Thus, the stage was set for an equine morality play.
“[Ruffian’s] abilities gave her the advantage in the match race,” Janney said. “If she could do what she did in full fields [by getting the early lead], then it was probably going to be even more effective in a match.”
Several ballyhooed match races in sports history had captured the world’s attention without incident — Seabiscuit vs. Triple Crown winner War Admiral in 1938, Alsab vs. Triple Crown winner Whirlaway in 1942, and Nashua vs. Swaps in 1955. None of those races, though, had the gender divide “it” factor.
The Great Match Race attracted 50,000 live attendees and more than 18 million TV viewers on CBS, comparable to the Grammy Awards and a pair of NFL “Sunday Night Football” games in 2024.
Prominent New York sportswriter Dick Young wrote at the time that, for women, “Ruffian was a way of getting even.”
“I can remember driving up the New Jersey Turnpike, and the lady that took the toll in one of those booths was wearing a button that said, ‘I’m for her,’ meaning Ruffian,” Janney said.
As the day approached, Ruffian’s rider, Jacinto Vasquez, who also was the regular rider of Foolish Pleasure including at the Kentucky Derby, had to choose whom to ride for the match race.
“I had ridden Foolish Pleasure, and I knew what he could do,” Vasquez told ESPN. “But I didn’t think he could beat the filly. He didn’t have the speed or stamina.”
Braulio Baeza, who had ridden Foolish Pleasure to victory in the previous year’s premier 2-year-old race, Hopeful Stakes, was chosen to ride Foolish Pleasure.
“I had ridden Foolish Pleasure and ridden against Ruffian,” Baeza said, with language assistance from his wife, Janice Blake. “I thought Foolish Pleasure was better than Ruffian. She just needed [early race] pressure because no one had ever pressured her.”
The 1⅛ mile race began at the start of the Belmont Park backstretch in the chute. In an ESPN documentary from 2000, Jack Whitaker, who hosted the race telecast for CBS, noted that the atmosphere turned eerie with dark thunderclouds approaching before the race.
Ruffian hit the side of the gate when the doors opened but straightened herself out quickly and assumed the lead. “The whole world, including me, thought that Ruffian was going to run off the screen and add to her legacy,” said longtime New York trainer Gary Contessa, who was a teenager when Ruffian ruled the racing world.
However, about ⅛ of a mile into the race, the force of Ruffian’s mighty strides snapped two bones in her front right leg.
“When she broke her leg, it sounded like a broken stick,” Vasquez said. “She broke her leg between her foot and her ankle. When I pulled up, the bone was shattered above the ankle. She couldn’t use that leg at all.”
It took Ruffian a few moments to realize what had happened to her, so she continued to run. Vasquez eventually hopped off and kept his shoulder leaning against her for support.
“You see it, but you don’t want to believe it,” Janney said.
Baeza had no choice but to have Foolish Pleasure finish the race in what became a macabre paid workout. The TV cameras followed him, but the eyes of everyone at the track were on the filly, who looked frightened as she was taken back to the barn area.
“When Ruffian broke down, time stood still that day,” Contessa said. Yet time was of the essence in an attempt to save her life.
Janney said that Dr. Frank Stinchfield — who was the doctor for the New York Yankees then and was “ahead of his time in fixing people’s bones” — called racing officials to see whether there was anything he could do to help with Ruffian.
New York veterinarian Dr. Manny Gilman managed to sedate Ruffian, performed surgery on her leg and, with Stinchfield’s help, secured her leg in an inflatable cast. When Ruffian woke up in the middle of the night, though, she started fighting and shattered her bones irreparably. Her team had no choice but to euthanize her at approximately 2:20 a.m. on July 7.
“She was going full bore trying to get in front of [Foolish Pleasure] out of the gate,” Baeza said. “She gave everything there. She gave her life.”
Contessa described the time after as a “stilled hush over the world.”
“When we got the word that she had rebroken her leg, the whole world was crying,” Contessa said. “I can’t reproduce the feeling that I had the day after.”
The Janneys soon flew to Maine for the summer, and they received a round of applause when the pilot announced their presence. At the cottage, they were met by thousands of well-wishing letters.
“We all sat there, after dinner every night, and we wrote every one of them back,” Janney said. “It was pretty overwhelming, and that didn’t stop for a long time. I still get letters.”
Equine fatalities have been part of the business since its inception, like the Triple Crown races and Breeders’ Cup. Some have generated headlines by coming in clusters, such as Santa Anita in 2019 and Churchill Downs in 2023. However, breakdowns are not the only factor, and likely not the most influential one, in the gradual decline of horse racing’s popularity in this country.
But the impact from the day of Ruffian’s death, and that moment, has been ongoing for horse racing.
“There are people who witnessed the breakdown and never came back,” Contessa said.
Said Janney: “At about that time, racing started to disappear from the national consciousness. The average person knows about the Kentucky Derby, and that’s about it.”
Equine racing today is a safer sport now than it was 50 years ago. The Equine Injury Database, launched by the Jockey Club in 2008, says the fatality rate nationally in 2024 was just over half of what it was at its launch.
“We finally have protocols that probably should have been in effect far sooner than this,” Contessa said. “But the protocols have made this a safer game.”
Said Vasquez: “There are a lot of nice horses today, but to have a horse like Ruffian, it’s unbelievable. Nobody could compare to Ruffian.”
ESPN baseball reporter. Covered the Washington Wizards from 2014 to 2016 and the Washington Nationals from 2016 to 2018 for The Washington Post before covering the Los Angeles Dodgers and MLB for the Los Angeles Times from 2018 to 2024.
NEW YORK — A blunder that typifies the current state of the New York Yankees, who find themselves in the midst of their second six-game losing streak in three weeks, happened in front of 41,401 fans at Citi Field on Saturday, and almost nobody noticed.
The Yankees were jogging off the field after securing the third out of the fourth inning of their 12-6 loss to the Mets when shortstop Anthony Volpe, as is standard for teams across baseball at the end of innings, threw the ball to right fielder Aaron Judge as he crossed into the infield from right field.
Only Judge wasn’t looking, and the ball nailed him in the head, knocking his sunglasses off and leaving a small cut near his right eye. The wound required a bandage to stop the bleeding, but Judge stayed in the game.
“Confusion,” Yankees manager Aaron Boone said. “I didn’t know what happened initially. [It just] felt like something happened. Of course I was a little concerned.”
Avoiding an injury to the best player in baseball was on the Yankees’ very short list of positives in another sloppy, draining defeat to their crosstown rivals. With the loss, the Yankees, who held a three-game lead over the Toronto Blue Jays in the American League East standings entering June 30, find themselves tied with the Tampa Bay Rays for second place three games behind the Blue Jays heading into Sunday’s Subway Series finale.
The nosedive has been fueled by messy defense and a depleted pitching staff that has encountered a wall.
“It’s been a terrible week,” said Boone, who before the game announced starter Clarke Schmidt will likely undergo season-ending Tommy John surgery.
For the second straight day, the Mets capitalized on mistakes and cracked timely home runs. After slugging three homers in Friday’s series opener, the Mets hit three more Saturday — a grand slam in the first inning from Brandon Nimmo to take a 4-0 lead and two home runs from Pete Alonso to widen the gap.
Nimmo’s blast — his second grand slam in four days — came after Yankees left fielder Jasson Dominguez misplayed a ball hit by the Mets’ leadoff hitter in the first inning. On Friday, he misread Nimmo’s line drive and watched it sail over his head for a double. On Saturday, he was slow to react to Starling Marte’s flyball in the left-center field gap and braked without catching or stopping it, allowing Marte to advance to second for a double. Yankees starter Carlos Rodon then walked two batters to load the bases for Nimmo, who yanked a mistake, a 1-2 slider over the wall.
“That slider probably needs to be down,” said Rodon, who allowed seven runs (six earned) over five innings. “A lot of misses today and they punished them.”
Jazz Chisholm Jr.’s throwing woes at third base — a position the Yankees have asked him to play to accommodate DJ LeMahieu at second base — continued in the second inning when he fielded Tyrone Taylor’s groundball and sailed a toss over first baseman Cody Bellinger’s head. Taylor was given second base and scored moments later on Marte’s RBI single.
The Yankees were charged with their second error in the Mets’ four-run seventh inning when center fielder Trent Grisham charged Francisco Lindor’s single up the middle and had it bounce off the heel of his glove.
The mistake allowed a run to score from second base without a throw, extending the Mets lead back to three runs after the Yankees had chipped their deficit, and allowed a heads-up Lindor to advance to second base. Lindor later scored on Alonso’s second home run, a three-run blast off left-hander Jayvien Sandridge in the pitcher’s major league debut.
“Just got to play better,” Judge said. “That’s what it comes down to. It’s fundamentals. Making a routine play, routine. It’s just the little things. That’s what it kind of comes down to. But every good team goes through a couple bumps in the road.”
This six-game losing skid has looked very different from the Yankees’ first. That rough patch, consisting of losses to the Boston Red Sox and Los Angeles Angels, was propelled by offensive troubles. The Yankees scored six runs in the six games and gave up just 16. This time, run prevention is the issue; the Yankees have scored 34 runs and surrendered 54 in four games against the Blue Jays in Toronto and two in Queens.
“The offense is starting to swing the bat, put some runs on the board,” Boone said. “The pitching, which has kind of carried us a lot this season, has really, really struggled this week. We haven’t caught the ball as well as I think we should.
“So, look, when you live it and you’re going through it, it sucks, it hurts. But you got to be able to handle it. You got to be able to deal with it. You got to be able to weather it and come out of this and grow.”
Bobby Jenks, a two-time All-Star pitcher for the Chicago White Sox who was on the roster when the franchise won the 2005 World Series, died Friday in Sintra, Portugal, the team announced.
Jenks, 44, who had been diagnosed with adenocarcinoma, a form of stomach cancer, this year, spent six seasons with the White Sox from 2005 to 2010 and also played for the Boston Red Sox in 2011. The reliever finished his major league career with a 16-20 record, 3.53 ERA and 173 saves.
“We have lost an iconic member of the White Sox family today,” White Sox chairman Jerry Reinsdorf said in a statement. “None of us will ever forget that ninth inning of Game 4 in Houston, all that Bobby did for the 2005 World Series champions and for the entire Sox organization during his time in Chicago. He and his family knew cancer would be his toughest battle, and he will be missed as a husband, father, friend and teammate. He will forever hold a special place in all our hearts.”
After Jenks moved to Portugal last year, he was diagnosed with a deep vein thrombosis in his right calf. That eventually spread into blood clots in his lungs, prompting further testing. He was later diagnosed with adenocarcinoma and began undergoing radiation.
In February, as Jenks was being treated for the illness, the White Sox posted “We stand with you, Bobby” on Instagram, adding in the post that the club was “thinking of Bobby as he is being treated.”
In 2005, as the White Sox ended an 88-year drought en route to the World Series title, Jenks appeared in six postseason games. Chicago went 11-1 in the playoffs, and he earned saves in series-clinching wins in Game 3 of the ALDS at Boston, and Game 4 of the World Series against the Houston Astros.
In 2006, Jenks saved 41 games, and the following year, he posted 40 saves. He also retired 41 consecutive batters in 2007, matching a record for a reliever.
“You play for the love of the game, the joy of it,” Jenks said in his last interview with SoxTV last year. “It’s what I love to do. I [was] playing to be a world champion, and that’s what I wanted to do from the time I picked up a baseball.”
A native of Mission Hills, California, Jenks appeared in 19 games for the Red Sox and was originally drafted by the then-Anaheim Angels in the fifth round of the 2000 draft.
Jenks is survived by his wife, Eleni Tzitzivacos, their two children, Zeno and Kate, and his four children from a prior marriage, Cuma, Nolan, Rylan and Jackson.
