Brutality of Boxing
Broken Promises, Deadly Injuries
The Olympics are back and that means that it’s likely that an African American boxer will win a medal, giving him the cred to go on to box professionally, permanent brain damage and a sharply reduced life expectancy.
Is it just me or is it more than odd that there is a lot of attention to NFL players and brain damage caused by repetitive whacks to the skull but there’s no similar concerns expressed when young, Black youths get their heads beat in so badly that their post-pugilistic life relegates them largely to menial jobs because their thought capacities are so damaged. The NFL spends billions trying to develop the safest helmets while amateur boxers must wear headgear of questionable worth and in the pro ranks, helmets are nowhere to be seen because the crowds want unvarnished punishment and they want to see the blood, not have it hidden behind headgear.
Could it be because the NFL is really big business that involves many white athletes while professional boxing is often mob-connected, generally uncontrolled by neutered state boxing commissions and involving largely young Blacks who tragically and mistakenly found what they believed was their one and only way out of poverty.
Boxing is unique in that the goal is to knock out the opponent, the famed KO and sometimes fighters die in the ring but the fans just nod their heads in mock sadness and say that it’s part of the game.
There have been several well-publicized deaths in the ring. Davey Moore fought Sugar Ramos on March 21, 1963, and after the fight, he fell into a coma in his dressing room and died 75 hours later. Moore’s death inspired a song by Bob Dylan and Pope John XXIII to comment that boxing was a “barbaric” sport. That is the understatement of all understatements.
Kim Duk-koo died after a fight with Ray “Boom Boom” Mancini, on Nov. 13, 1982. Mancini won with a 14th round knockout or KO, and in this case, it turned out to be permanent knockout. The death prompted reforms and championship bouts were reduced from 15 rounds to 12, three-minute rounds, still plenty of time to do plenty of irreversible damage.
Those are just a few of the more famous deaths. Most boxers killed in the ring are anonymous deaths that happen in smaller arenas where there are no TV cameras or reporters.
The best statistics I could find are in a 2011 study, “Death Under the Spotlight: The Manuel Valzquez Collection” by Joseph R. Svinth. The study estimated that between 1890 and 2011, 1,604 boxers lost their lives as a direct result of injuries sustained in the ring, or an average of 13 per year, boxers who toiled in anonymity and who never achieved popular fame. The study also showed 233 boxing-related deaths in the 1920s, and 103 in the 2000s.
The stories are rife of the legendary champs whose lives spiraled down after retirement and some even died either in the ring or afterwards of injuries suffered in the squared circle. Or the stereotypical champ who quit school in the eighth grade, saw his life destiny to be lived out on the streets and likely prison like so many of his peers and he was suddenly faced with unimaginable wealth which he had no ability to manage and instead, he is exploited by a dishonest manager and a retinue of parasites and soon finds his fortunes have been squandered away behind his back.
There are the famous ones. Muhammad Ali is probably the best example as “The Greatest” was reduced to a mumbling, stumbling soul who died when he was just 74. Mike Tyson’s story is well-known as he went from the youngest heavyweight champ to a prison stretch for rape. Or Joe “The Brown Bomber” Louis who died at 67 and in later years, was a greeter at Las Vegas hotels.
But for every Muhammad Ali there are scores of young, unknown prize fighters who will never be champions; for every Mike Tyson, there are untold numbers of young, hopeful boxers who never won a title and had to quit fighting and whose lives reverted back to their roots of poverty, crime and ignominy.
Why not Olympic stabbing where the first fighter to land a knife wins; or how about Olympic dueling, with the duelers facing off with real bullets; or possibly Olympic car chasing, where the winner causes the opponent’s car to crash. That would bring in fans and big money.
Dylan said it perfectly in his 1964 song, “Who Killed Davey Moore?”
“Who killed Davey Moore
Why an’ what’s the reason for?
“Not I,” says the referee
“Don’t point your finger at me
I could’ve stopped it in the eighth
An’ maybe kept him from his fate
But the crowd would’ve booed, I’m sure
At not gettin’ their money’s worth
It’s too bad he had to go
But there was a pressure on me too, you know
It wasn’t me that made him fall
No, you can’t blame me at all”
Who killed Davey Moore
Why an’ what’s the reason for?
“Not us,” says the angry crowd
Whose screams filled the arena loud
“It’s too bad he died that night
But we just like to see a fight
We didn’t mean for him t’ meet his death
We just meant to see some sweat
There ain’t nothing wrong in that
It wasn’t us that made him fall
No, you can’t blame us at all”
Who killed Davey Moore
Why an’ what’s the reason for?
“Not me,” says his manager
Puffing on a big cigar
“It’s hard to say, it’s hard to tell
I always thought that he was well
It’s too bad for his wife an’ kids he’s dead
But if he was sick, he should’ve said
It wasn’t me that made him fall
No, you can’t blame me at all”
Who killed Davey Moore
Why an’ what’s the reason for?
“Not me,” says the gambling man
With his ticket stub still in his hand
“It wasn’t me that knocked him down
My hands never touched him none
I didn’t commit no ugly sin
Anyway, I put money on him to win
It wasn’t me that made him fall
No, you can’t blame me at all”
Who killed Davey Moore
Why an’ what’s the reason for?
“Not me,” says the boxing writer
Pounding print on his old typewriter
Sayin’, “Boxing ain’t to blame
There’s just as much danger in a football game”
Sayin’, “Fistfighting is here to stay
It’s just the old American way
It wasn’t me that made him fall
No, you can’t blame me at all”
Who killed Davey Moore
Why an’ what’s the reason for?
“Not me,” says the man whose fists
Laid him low in a cloud of mist
Who came here from Cuba’s door
Where boxing ain’t allowed no more
“I hit him, yes, it’s true
But that’s what I am paid to do
Don’t say ‘murder,’ don’t say ‘kill’
It was destiny, it was God’s will”
Who killed Davey Moore
Why an’ what’s the reason for?