Boxing….The Manly Art of Self Defense

My favorite sport was Boxing. I was taught and and coached with the early skills of offense and defense as a child. The dance of foot movement , the jab,  the bob and weave. I loved it.

As a child getting hit did not resonate at all like it began to with age and bigger opponents.  I did not like to be hit. I began to reason that a Boxing career would not be a good thing for me. Being very clear about that fact did not stop me from loving the sport.

My childhood heroes were rife with Boxers of all weights and and styles. The names will never be forgotten because their signatures were signed in their very blood and underlined with their human sacrifice. Brutally fascinating always, the battles in the arenas by these modern day gladiators remain statements of human dedication and courage beyond any imagination for all time.

Watching  the bouts with fascination and amazement began to change to anticipation of a chilling reality.  My adulthood brought the understanding that the art of self defense left  most of it’s participants with a certain horrific fate , certainly an overwhelming  majority. A consistency that  still staggers the core of being human, at least,my core.

Blood, guts and disfigurement  were always a side product of the fight. The amount of each was the only unknown. Did I really enjoy watching a “fight”? Is my stomach getting weak with age? The pleasure derived from watching a fake or parry followed by a counter punch that breaks a contestant’s nose was waning . The blood and the instant lack of balance being a inspiration to the crowd and opponent had a chill to it .

Was this the thrill? Was anticipating the knockout and total separation from senses being as good as it gets? Was the goal actually to…. kill..rather than death just being an occupational hazard? Emile Griffith vs. Benny “Kid” Paret will always come to mind.

Some pugilists  manage to escape the disfigurement and dementia that escalates rapidly as they age. However,they do not get a pass on losing a certain sense of self. It matters not whether they were the purest of dedication to their craft. The erosion that follows being understood as another “occupational hazard” is available to all. 

The role call of Boxing’s greatest legends is the same listing for tragic deaths and and unending sadness in the lives that fade away as we the fan and the public watch.

This addiction to witnessing pain being inflicted on others seems to be a constant in contact sports. Football, the NFL, in particular, has had its flurry of “victims” due to concussion and deliberate impact to cause injury. Millions of spectators watch every week, every event  all identifying with the winner…perhaps?

My favorite sport has competition lately. Tennis and Chess have grown.Yet, Boxing and Football still happen to be a joy for me too. I am sure that this  all could be a part of the battle between “good and evil” that rages in all of us. As the old native American said “the winner will be the one who is fed the most”.

I like to think I feed the “good” but ……….. my human imperfections are many.