Boxing. A man’s sport. Blood is spilled, punches are traded,
and the winner is carried into the sunset on the shoulders of his supporters
while the loser is forced to slink off into the corner of failure, obscurity,
and shame. You play baseball, you play basketball, you play football and soccer. You don’t play boxing. Ask anyone in any gym
around the world. This is not a
game.
There is something raw and emotional about boxing that we as
Americans are slowly falling out of touch with. It’s primordial, almost
embryonic. It takes the two most basic fears a man has and forces him to resist
them while putting himself squarely in the Lion’s Den. Getting hurt (i.e
getting punched in the face by a full grown man) and Hurting someone. That
cosmic fear that starts in your chest and spreads to the pit of your stomach
when you’ve gone a step too far, when you see someone is really hurt. Your throat dries up and your heart begins to race,
your mind speeding across every possible outcome, every possible consequence.
Men have fought in that ring for years, for many different reasons, but one
thing is universal. Fists don’t discriminate. Men have been crippled for life,
terribly scarred, brain damaged, and even killed.
We live in a world now where we are overprotected. We spend
most of our lives coddled behind a screen. Whether it’s a television, a laptop,
an iPod, or a cell phone. We’re free to shit-talk and firebomb online with the
protection of anonymity. No serious threat of a schoolyard fight. No
mid-afternoon meeting at the rock piles to duke it out. This bullying
phenomenon that everyone is talking about; how many of these kids took a good
punch on the nose? It was Facebook, text messages, online nonsense, verbal
abuse. The fear of physical confrontation is quickly leaving us as a society.
Perhaps that’s it. The fact that we have no fear, or rather
no reason to fear physical threats. It seems juvenile, it seems brutish, but
this is our most basic nature. Stand and Fight or Run and Hide? Will you have
the courage? Strength, bravery, grace, skill, it’s all there in this beautiful
mix of physicality and psychology.
From its inception all the way to its growth in America,
boxing has been a way for underprivileged men to prove themselves. The poor,
the uneducated, the ethnically, racially and religiously persecuted. During the
19th and early 20th century in America it was the Jews,
the Irishmen and the Italians fighting to make a name for themselves, make a
living for their families. Fighting was an avenue that anyone could succeed at
no matter the color of your skin, or what god you worshipped. The Heavyweight
champion was loved and revered, respected and feared. During the 30s and 40s Joe Louis broke the
color barrier, by becoming one of the most celebrated champions the world ever
knew. Some called him an Uncle Tom, but most were just happy to see a Black
face in the newspapers for something positive.
Jack Johnson was another story, a glorious heavyweight with
one of the most devastating right hands in history. Pound for Pound one of the
greatest fighters of his day, Johnson was larger than life. Already a demoralizingly
large man, his exploits outside the ring made him seem even bigger. The booze,
the cigars, the women, the cars, the fancy clothes, the outright defiance of
authority. He was this wild mix of Babe Ruth, Gorgeous George and Howard Hughes
in the body of an enormous Black Man. God Bless him for it.
It seems as though this blossoming century has no room for
these heroes. Men who were larger than life, who prove themselves with their
fists in contests of endurance, strength, intelligence, and sheer will. We look
up to studio-engineered rappers and reality TV stars. Actors who drink vitamin water instead of
martinis. Perhaps this newer, gentler world doesn’t need a heavyweight
champion. Perhaps too many hours of Halo and Modern Warfare have detached us
from physical contact. We are a generation of virtual snipers. A whole era of
sweaty upper lips and pale skin. Even though our country is entrenched in two
serious wars, and seems to be dipping its fingers into plenty of other
international conflicts, we live in what is arguably the most passive time in
human history.
Why then, does the success of Mixed Martial Arts continue to flourish as boxing plummets like Icarus from the skies of favor? I have a theory. For all its close contact and brutality, MMA has much less personal resonance than boxing. It’s so far removed from people’s everyday lives that it becomes fantasy, mere entertainment by men with a higher skill set than most. Learning Brazilian Jujitsu, studying the discipline of Krav Maga, or mastering techniques from the Greco-Roman style of wrestling are things that most men will never do. There was a time however, where most men, at some point in their lives would get into a fistfight.
That time seems to be behind us. Face to face conflicts are
slowly but surely vanishing; less and less young people growing up having to
physically defend themselves. Now they are presented a fantasy element of “what
if’s”. They have their whole lives to dream up some complex, emotional,
reasonable plotline in which they are forced to act, and they have suddenly
become masters of every self-defense discipline known to man. These people must
live vicariously through MMA fighters on television or action heroes in movies that
give more to explosions and fight scenes than plot development.
Boxing was always more relatable. Two men of humble
backgrounds step into the ring, carrying on their shoulders years of oppression
and damnation. Dead ends, poor decisions, and needs that can’t be met anywhere
else. These men possess a certain skill set. They are forced to face their most
primal fears and step face to face with each other, each man’s future on the
line. A battle of not only fists, but of wits was going to occur. Whatever man
held the endurance would win. Not just the physical endurance, it is not just a
matter of keeping breath in your lungs, but psychological, spiritual endurance.
Can your mind take 15 (now 12) rounds of high stress activity? The punches, the
trash talk, the crowd, the creeping sensation of muscle failure. Minutes turn
into miles as the gloves get heavier, vision starts to blur, and air gets
thinner and less accessible. Who will be left standing? Who will fold under the
pressure? Who’s body will fail them first?
It wouldn’t be a shock to find out that most of the people
reading this have never been in a fight. Perhaps that’s a good thing. Perhaps
not. It would be naïve to say that the disappearance of physical confrontation
means the disappearance of aggression and violence. Taking a look at our modern
society and how violence is still prevalent will quickly confirm this notion.
People who have been picked on or bullied now resort to school shooting sprees
or the gruesome murder/suicide of their tormentors instead of a face to face,
non-lethal physical confrontation. It is something that has been brewing since
the invention of the bow and arrow, and came to an unsettling peak during the
Battle of Coral Sea in World War Two. For the first time in history, neither
Navy saw their enemy through the course of the battle.
If the dwindling presence of physical contact has no effect
on the fact that we are a violent species, then why not embrace our nature and
get into the clinch? Fighting, specifically boxing places you face to face with
your own humanity and occasionally, your own mortality. The look on another
man’s face when you land a fierce body blow. The sound of air escaping your
lungs as the same is done to you. You
can see and feel the damage, and it is visceral. It is present. There is no
denying it. Being a firsthand witness to these things will make a man
appreciate the physical sacrifice that goes into a fight. The damage that goes
hand in hand with violent outbursts. It
will remove flippancy from most men’s thoughts on combat and violence
altogether. There is a heavy price to pay, and if you have seen it firsthand,
you will be more reluctant to pay it.
People have been talking about a disconnect in social
interaction for years now. Ever since the rise of the internet, cell phones and
video games, people have said we don’t interact like we used to. To an extent,
this is true. But a good, solid punch is just as important as a loving touch,
or intimate conversation. That is another form of intimacy. It’s an important
experience for a man to have. It tells you who you really are. Not who you project yourself to be. Our generation has
the unique ability to lie about every detail of our lives and get away with it
for the most part. Who really knows us? Most of us only exist to our friends
through a screen, so there’s no way to call their bluff. A tough, graceful fistfight
will keep you from believing your own bullshit; it’ll keep others from
believing it too. Limitations are realized, new strengths are discovered, and
weaknesses are exposed and can now be worked on. The only downside is a few
moments of pain. Though now it seems that we are so terrified of even mild
discomfort that we can’t even fathom volunteering ourselves for pain.
This is why the Boxer is no longer the American Hero. We are
a generation free from physical pain. It’s all in our heads. We are
overprotected, overexposed, over-analytical and overmedicated. We’re
overweight, overstressed, overtired, and overwhelmed. Our neurosis is eating us
alive. Being quirky and “uncool” and different is valued over being tough or
loyal or courageous. Where does that leave the guys making a living overcoming
man’s deepest fears with his fists?
That is not to say that the sport has done no wrong. Boxing
has failed us just as much as we have failed boxing. We have no great champions
anymore. No longer are there knock-down, drag-out wars in the ring like in the
days of old. Very few are willing to sacrifice their bodies not only for the
good of the sport, but for the entertainment of the masses. It’s about money,
it’s about fame, it’s about getting away clean. That didn’t always happen in
the glory days.
Tyson was the last great giant. He was also the first
Champion who was instantly recognizable, yet impossibly unfamiliar. No one
related to Mike Tyson on a personal level like previous champions. Marciano,
Louis, Ali, Frazier, Foreman, Holmes, Spinks, Norton, and later Douglas. He was viewed as a wild beast. A cartoon. A walking
knockout machine. That was the beginning of the end for Boxing. Tyson’s early
dominance was good for ratings, and great for Don King, but ultimately it
created a viewership that started to destroy the sport. Now instead of a heated battle between two near
equals, all we look for is the knockout highlights.
There are some great fighters left, but no great champions,
no great wars. The Klitschko brothers as heavyweights, Roy Jones Jr, Oscar Dela
Hoya, Manny Pacquiao, Ricky Hatton, Floyd Mayweather, and Sugar Shane
Mosley have all kept it alive, but it’s getting softer every day. More corrupt
every day. A lack of great heavyweights, too many belts, not enough big fights,
so many elements contribute to the decay of the sport.
The Pacquiao/Bradley fight is a perfect example of the sports dying credibility. In one of the most repulsive, stomach turning, staggeringly flabbergasting calls in modern boxing history, 2 of 3 judges went for Bradley over Pacquiao in a split decision. The fight was clearly Pacquiao’s from the beginning, 11-1… 10-2 at the absolute worst. No one watching in the arena that night, and very few watching at home believed Bradley had even come close. Somehow, the incompetent judges went for Timothy Bradley in a 115-113 decision. It seems even the judges are losing touch with the sport. There was over two decades of experience at the table that night, but somehow two of them just didn’t know how to score a boxing match. It is truly a science both beautiful and complex, and one that should be taken more seriously by the people directly involved.
The Pacquiao/Bradley fight is a perfect example of the sports dying credibility. In one of the most repulsive, stomach turning, staggeringly flabbergasting calls in modern boxing history, 2 of 3 judges went for Bradley over Pacquiao in a split decision. The fight was clearly Pacquiao’s from the beginning, 11-1… 10-2 at the absolute worst. No one watching in the arena that night, and very few watching at home believed Bradley had even come close. Somehow, the incompetent judges went for Timothy Bradley in a 115-113 decision. It seems even the judges are losing touch with the sport. There was over two decades of experience at the table that night, but somehow two of them just didn’t know how to score a boxing match. It is truly a science both beautiful and complex, and one that should be taken more seriously by the people directly involved.
At the end of the day however, Boxing is falling out of favor
with America because we as a country no longer hit each other; and we ought to.
We live in a world where anyplace without a cell phone signal is a torture
chamber and the slightest extra effort is expected to be met with thunderous
applause. Over the last few decades,
with every passing year we’ve gotten just a little bit softer, just a little
bit weaker, just a little bit further removed from the realities of life. As times get tougher in this country we lean
harder and harder on escapism, some relief from the weary road we travel, some
sort of break from the troubling monotony of everyday living. I suggest that
instead of retreating from the world as we know it, we should embrace the
physical, turn pain into strength, suffering into toughness. Keep our hands up
and our chins tucked. We as a
generation, we as a country, could use a good punch in the face. It sure as
Hell wouldn’t hurt us to learn to throw a few, either.