From Ali to Einstein: Boxing

Everyone who knows me knows that I’m an avid boxing fan. What some of you don’t know is that I have done a lot of sparring and training, so when I talk about boxing, I have some idea of what I’m talking about. Lacking any perceptible talent, I was never any good, but I did learn much about the ‘sweet science’ and have coached a little over the years. One can have a good ‘eye’ for the game even without being a master. I absolutely love the boxing regimen, and the only thing keeping me from working out as I would like is a bad knee and a healthy dose of “I’m too old for that shit now.” I fully understand, however, the reluctance on the part of seasoned professionals to retire, even when their time has passed. Boxing gets into your blood.

Training & Straining

Skipping rope is still my favorite part of the training. I could probably go all day if it didn’t get so boring past the twenty minute mark. I find myself inventing different steps to break up the monotony, and if there are some non-boxers or pretty girls around, I pass the time trying to impress them with my endurance and fancy footwork. Both are quite nice but overall meaningless once inside the ropes unless one has the skills and the pain tolerance to put them to good use. I enjoy the speed bag, heavy bag, and headache bag as well. The rhythmic beating of a well-handled speed bag is almost hypnotic.

Running, or as they call it ‘roadwork’ is my least favorite endeavor, yet probably one of the most important for overall boxing fitness. The African fighters like Henry Akinwande or Ike Ibeabeuchi, though both heavyweights, were renowned for running 12 miles a day during training, which explained their uncanny ability to have very high punch outputs during fights. I don’t care how good it is for the game. I still hate it.

(Ike Ibeabeuchi was, in my opinion, the most talented heavyweight in the last 20 years and, were it not for his anger management issues, he would have outclassed any and all of the last decade’s so-called ‘champions’. Henry Akinwande was recently sighted in Germany, sparring with Russian super-giant Nikolai Valuev. Akinwande’s career took a sharp nose-dive after a very disappointing performance against then-champion Lennox Lewis. No one told Henry that hugs were for after the fight.)

Sparring

Sparring is the first chance anyone interested in the sport has to test their skill in the ring. The idea behind sparring is for a fighter to learn to apply the proper footwork, hand coordination, and defensive style needed to box efficiently while not having to face an opponent intent on knocking his or her head off. It’s still painful, and there is no guarantee, in spite of the ‘rules’, that you won’t end up sparring with someone having a really bad day and wanting nothing more than to take it out on you in the ring. Many professional fighters do not hold back, even in sparring, and have a very hard time keeping sparring partners or have to pay them very high salaries to those who stay.

There is actually some sense to this. Bruce Lee once said that he never sparred because it dulled his reflexes and power, and he wouldn’t want to reflexively sparr when he needs to fight. Everything has to be ‘on’ all the time in martial arts, where your hesitation may be a life or death matter at that level of skill. This is true in the boxing gym to some extent as well. Many promising fighters, who perform well in the gym during sparring sessions, carry that laid back attitude with them into the ring. There is a long list of great sparring mates that once in serious competition only manage a lackluster performance. The gym and the ring are two different worlds.

Relativity

Someone once asked Albert Einstein to explain relativity in a nutshell. His words were “Two minutes with your hand on a hot stove is like an eternity. Two minutes with a pretty girl passes like the blink of an eye.” The last time I entered the ring with any intent of doing someone a bit of damage I learned about relativity first hand, but there were no pretty girls involved. I was working out as usual when a young fellow, probably about 21, asked if there was anyone willing to sparr with him for a few rounds. I accepted, laced up, put on the helmet, inserted a mouthpiece and climbed through the ropes. I had no idea who this kid was.

For the first couple of minutes we tapped around a bit and circled each other, throwing jabs, moving in and out, and getting a feel for each other and the ring. His jabs had some sting on them, so I learned early that I wasn’t going to be able to get inside without paying a hefty price. I don’t think I landed anything clean in that first round. I knew then that something was very wrong.

The second round is what I called the ‘relativity round’. Much like the fellow whose hand is pressed onto the hot electric coil of a stove, the next three minutes of sparring turned out to be the longest three minutes of my life up to that point. I was being toyed around with the sort of playful viciousness that a housecat displays on an already trapped field-mouse. That kid hit me with about six unanswered combinations, a few hooks to the body, and I can’t even tell you how many jabs I ate that night. I landed one or two good shots, but that only seemed to make him madder. Turns out, the nameless kid was a two-time Golden Glove champion from somewhere out west. After learning that bit of information, I wasn’t so disappointed over the beating I suffered. I deserved it for not asking who I was serving my head to that evening.

Recovery

Aging doesn’t automatically mean that you can’t box or train anymore. It does mean, however, that your recovery time is slower and more painful. We all remember the scrapes and bruises of childhood and adolescence that couldn’t stop us from trying to stop a locomotive, let alone lay us up for a week, require x-rays, and lots of Tylenol 3. Age slows you down, too. I try to stay fast, but speed leaves you faster than you can catch it. Einstein's thought experiment involving mirrors and light speed travel comes to mind.

I’m frustrated by my mid-40s urge to keep on training hard, but I’ll have to learn to work with what is and not, as some others insist I do, push mind over matter where the matter is not what it used to be. After all, I am not George Foreman.

I’d like to talk about individual fighters at some point, too, along with the many systemic problems facing the professional boxing world. I’ll just ramble for now.