There was a time when all the men in my life got together for a Saturday evening, and every conversation centered on one subject. They joked and laughed, had some “spirited” discussions, and occasionally one called the other something less polite than “crazy.”
These Saturdays, more often than not, occurred at my now departed Great Grandpa’s house, and they always occurred on fight night. (quick side note: my Great Grandpa used to call me Tony Kaboochie. To this day, no one knows what that means or why he called me that. I always liked it – I made it my first yahoo ID in college.)
I love boxing. I don’t know why. I’m certainly no historian of the sport. I can’t argue the merits of Mike Tyson versus Cassius Clay or Floyd Mayweather versus Ray Leonard. Ray Leonard? Who is that? He’s Sugar Ray, and he ranks among the greatest fighters of all time with cool nicknames, like Thomas “The Hitman” Hearns, “Marvelous” Marvin Hagler and a slew of others.
Unfortunately, I can’t remember the last big fight I was genuinely excited about. I remember a few years ago when Jen & I were still in San Diego, we ordered a fight on PPV and had a bunch of friends over. I don’t even remember who was featured in the main event. The only thing memorable for me about that evening was that my buddy Erich made it over to watch. We affectionately refer to him as “The Chemist” for reasons I might address in another article. Erich lost his battle with ALS before he made it out of his twenties…
Can this column get any more morose? It’s far from that for me.
Erich and my Great Grandpa were big fight fans. That can be read two ways, and both are true: they were fans of big fights; they were big fans of fights. And they were both prominently on my mind as De La Hoya versus Mayweather approached these past several weeks.
While the world is fascinated with people pretending to be stranded on an island, trying to be supermodels, or trying to impress a megalomaniac, it would seem the inherent drama, animosity, and carnage of boxing would appeal to masses. It turns out that formula does work, to the tune of the wildly successful and rapidly growing UFC.
So what happened to boxing? Unfortunately, the sport has spiraled out of control with its corruption and chaos. At this point I would consider an argument suggesting that pro wrestling is less rigged. The general public seems pretty apathetic towards boxing as a franchise anymore. I have heard no public outcry to reform boxing, or any outrage at its current state. For example, I have no idea who the heavyweight champ is (or more accurately, who the current champs are), and I don’t even care enough to look it up right now.
But the De La Hoya-Mayweather fight, if only very briefly, has made boxing relevant again. It spawned a reality TV show of its own, and has reminded the casual fan (like myself) what is was like when boxing mattered. And for reasons I can’t explain, that brings my Great Grandpa and Erich back to life.
I know both of them are watching on that jumbo plasma screen in the sky. And if either of them thought boxing would allow the past-his-prime boxer to upset the undefeated-pretty-boy, I’d call both of them “crazy,” or something less polite…
Td
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