Mike Tyson

Mike Tyson

The harder they fall

He washed his glass and wiped it clean, to destroy the evidence, and looked at me steadily. "Mr. Lewis, what is it that turned a fine sport into a dirty business?"
"Money," I said.
"It's money," he went on, as if he hadn't heard me. "Money. Too much money for the promoters, too much money for the managers, too much money for the fighters."
"Too much money for everybody except the press agents," I said. I was feeling sorrier for myself at the moment than I was for the game. That's what the battle always did to me.
"I tell you, Mr. Lewis, it's money," Charles was saying.
"An athletic sport in an atmosphere of money is like a girl from a good family in a house of ill fame." p.7 The Harder They Fall

Budd Schulberg was not only a novelist but a screenplay writer who in his most famous title depicts the scandal and corruption of the boxing world. The story follows Eddie Willis a writer and press agent whose moral compass goes askew when he begins to work for Nick Belinzo, a boxing promoter. Belinzo contracts the behemoth peasant Toro Molina to become a fighter and spectacle for him. Toro is unaware of the complexities and business of boxing. Trusting his newfound friends Toro is led along on a string through a series of created victories. Each fight is made more spectacular and Toro is promised more money and all that he desires. In time with the spectacle is the diminishing of Toro's control over his life. Toro is eventually given a pittance of a payment for his work while the others, the promoters and fat cats get rich. Having no other line of recourse Toro is damned to continue to sell himself to fight.



While the action centers on Toro the realization of the grasp of capital depresses Eddie and makes him feel like a beaten fighter. In this way the novel is a classic noir. The main character is aware of fate and the social structures that create his fate but is totally unable to do anything about it no matter his valiant efforts.

Roberto Garcia- Boxing Trainer

I still have a soul

I realize this is an ad for HBO but I still like it, for obvious reasons.

Speaking of which if you haven't checked out the Banksy beginning for the new simpsons...
click here to see it.



Is it recuperation? Is it detournment? Is it post modern irony? Is it all of the above?

Women boxers in India by Ezra Winton

Anna Sarkissian and Ameesha Joshi are emerging filmmakers from Montreal, Quebec, currently making a documentary in India “on a shoestring budget” about women boxers called With this Ring. The synopsis from the film’s site:

Winning four world titles is not enough to get noticed in India, just ask 27 year-old boxing champion Mary Kom. She could have been a household name by now if she had chosen to pursue a more “ladylike” sport like tennis or field hockey. Instead, she is fighting against centuries of tradition in a country that expects women to be sweet and docile. With cropped hair, defined shoulders and a mean left hook, she is anything but your typical Indian girl.

With This Ring lets you step into the ring with members of the Indian Women’s National Boxing Team. From their villages to the podium, these girls quickly rise to the top of their game. At the 4th World Women’s Boxing Competition in 2006, the Indian team makes a clean sweep, winning eight medals and the Championship Team title. They officially become the best women’s boxing team in the world. And the most under-appreciated.

Art Threat recently fired off a few questions to this dynamic duo. Their responses, with images, and a sneak peak video of the film are below.

Art Threat: What is this project about and how did you get the idea?

Anna Sarkissian: Since 2006, we’ve been on the trail of the Indian women’s senior national boxing team. They’re some of the top boxers in the world, with multiple world champions in their midst. Ameesha originally found out that there were women boxing in India after seeing their images at a World Press Photo Exhibit. With her Indian heritage (she’s Gujarati), she was really curious to find out how these women were able to pursue boxing when they are expected to marry and have kids by the age of 20. The social pressure to be a dutiful daughter, wife, and mother, is intense. When she found out they were some of the top boxers in the world, she knew there was a story to tell. We talked about going to India, and upon finding out that there would be a boxing world championship in New Delhi for the first and possibly last time, we knew we couldn’t pass up this opportunity. So in November, we booked last minute flights and headed to India. We had no funding, no equipment of our own. We basically begged and borrowed and did whatever was necessary to get ourselves there. It was well worth it and we were able to witness history in the making; India won four world championship titles and was crowned best team in the world.

Essentially, we’re looking at the women behind the gloves. We’re interested in their personal stories, finding out how they have overcome struggles in order to pursue boxing, which can be their ticket out of poverty. Successful athletes are often rewarded with a cushy government job, meaning they would be set for life. Many girls on the team are able to support their entire families with their earnings. As you can imagine, many of them come from small, conservative villages where boxing is misunderstood. Yet once they start winning medals internationally and earning their own money, their families become more accepting.

One of their parents’ primary concerns is that boxing will disfigure their faces, and they won’t be able to marry. It may sound trivial to us to have a cut or scar on your face, but marriage is a pivotal rite of passage in India. Some of the boxers are 25 or 26 years old and still haven’t married. Society views them as old maids. They’ve given up on some of them. You can imagine their relief to find out that Ameesha and I (we’re 37 and 27) aren’t married. We formed some common ground on that front.

People have a lot of preconceived notions about these boxers, who train to “hit other women in the head” three times a day, six days a week, 11 months a year. Even here, when we show our footage, people are startled by their appearance: short hair, defined shoulders, men’s jeans. People will come up to them on the street, asking, “Are you a boy or a girl?” just to rattle them. They laugh it off. They go about their business inside the walls of the training camp, focusing on boxing. They are marginalized by society, in many ways, but they keep training. They ignore the snide remarks and stares because they have their sights set on the next world championship, the Asian Games, and the Olympics.

Publicly, most people said they supported women’s boxing. We would ask people on the street, “what if your mother wanted to try boxing?” They told us they would encourage her to do so. But others were more candid, saying it was degrading for women to wear tracksuits and other cheap clothing when they should be in saris. Others said they would prefer for women to focus on “womanly pursuits” like weaving or pottery. One man said he wouldn’t let his wife box because she would put him in the hospital.

Spring demo 2010 (With This Ring) from with this ring / anna & ameesha on Vimeo.

The site seems a little different than a standard doc film site, what is the plan for the website?

AS: We hope to make people part of the process as the film comes together. Since we’ve been sharing the production experience with an audience on our CitizenShift blog since 2006, we felt that we wanted to continue to have the same kind of relationship during the post-production. We’ve been very candid about the challenges and problems we’ve had in making this film. In a sense, we feel like we have nothing to hide. We would like our online presence to be a warts and all portrayal of the way that With This Ring was made. It feels strange to talk about ourselves in the third person while promoting our film, so we keep things intimate. It’s just the two of us working on this in our free time, there’s no huge bureaucratic production house shaping our words. We want it to feel genuine. Since this is a personal project for both of us, we wanted others to join us on the meandering journey, wherever it goes.

We hope to post more clips as we get deeper into the post-production process and of course we’ll save some nuggets for the actual film. Apparently, there’s this thing called social media that we’re supposed to be utilizing to promote our film. We don’t know the first thing about tweeting but we’re open to the idea.

What’s the best story/moment you have from filming? And the worst?

AS: We’ve been lucky in the sense that we’ve had many wonderful moments. Our film was made on a non-existent budget and we had unbelievable support from the families of the boxers, coaches, and even complete strangers. In India, they have a saying that the “guest is like a god.” You really feel that. We enjoyed more delicious meals at people’s homes than either of us could have imagined. It’s also not customary for two women to travel alone in India, so people were quite nervous about us gallivanting around the country by ourselves. They really went out of their way to ensure that we were taken care of and welcomed us wholeheartedly. That’s really what I’ll always remember about India.

The worst? Upon arriving in India back in 2006, the coaches told us we were welcome to shoot the team – for the day. Somehow, there was some miscommunication and the team didn’t understand that we were coming to India for two months expressly to document their lives. That was a minor roadblock, to say the least. We spent a few weeks waiting outside their training hall, hoping to speak to them. Eventually, we gained the trust of the coaches and the athletes and developed a good relationship with them. Since 2006, we have met up with them in Ontario when they came for a training camp in 2008, spent 10 weeks with them at the training camps in India in summer 2008, travelled to China with them for the world championships in November 2008, and returned to India in December 2008 for a final visit. At this point, we’ve finished shooting and we’re starting editing.

Filmmaker Ameesha Joshi

Ameesha Joshi: One of the best moments was the first day we arrived at the boxing camp in India in the summer of 2008, 2 years after our first visit. Since then Mary Kom, one of our main characters and currently the world`s best boxer, had left the boxing scene for two years after having twin boys. We had no idea if she planned on returning to the sport, so it was absolutely a surprise to discover she had and arrived at the boxing camp the exact same day we did to begin production. 

Mary was determined to win her 4th gold medal at the next Championships, which she did! But the best part of her returning was her arrival with a baby in each arm. We got to witness her juggling an extensive training workout while taking care of her two babies. She was often up all night from them crying, but always got up at the crack of dawn with all the other boxers for a grueling workout and their workouts occurred three times a day, 6 days a week. It was impressive to say the least.

There are many of the smaller moments I remember fondly, like getting caught in the rain during an outdoor boxing competition in monsoon season. Sometimes the rain would come down like a waterfall without any prior warning of a drizzle. The chaos that ensued was rather comical, everyone was screaming through the downpour, racing to get inside, many scrambled and crouched underneath the ring for cover. It was seconds before you got completely soaked so you had to move fast. Then there was us huddling under our ridiculously large golf umbrella Anna had brought from home, it ended up being one of the most valuable items we packed that summer, no question it saved our equipment. The boxers ended up continuing the competition indoors, with a makeshift ring, using their backpacks to mark the edges. They always made the best of any situation and there most common response to any hitch or hurdle were always the words ‘ no problem!’ 

One of the worst times was the whole process in getting special permission to visit the north eastern state of Manipur where Mary Kom lives in 2006. We bought our plane tickets before realizing that non-resident Indians need special permission to visit. The ordeal to get the paper work approved was long and arduous, involving long lineups over many days. We kept pushing back our plane ticket to Manipur without knowing if we would even receive permission in time. We had non-refundable plane tickets back to Canada, and with next to no budget, our schedule was fixed so it was quite stressful, but in the end we did managed to get the permission, and only because a kind Manipuri family we befriended in Delhi pulled some strings at the last minute. 

Then there was the moment we arrived in Manipur to find out Mary had just left for Mumbai for a last minute engagement. We were more than relieved to learn she would return three days before we would leave Manipur, and she did everything to shower us with incredible Manipuri hospitality during those precious days.

Your previous short (Anna’s) was an experimental documentary, will this one be as well? And what do you feel are the problems/limitations with more conventional documentary?

AS: It’s a tough business and I can appreciate how incredibly difficult it is to make a good film. I think documentaries are often lumped together as being “badly made” by other filmmakers, with shaky camera, choppy editing and so on. In some cases, people are so focused on the message that any trace of art disappears. Personally, I think Powerpoint is a great visual tool for conveying facts and information – but I don’t want to see pie-charts at the movies. I’m certainly not a master filmmaker, but looking back at some of the NFB box sets from the glory years, I think we’ve lost touch with the art of documentary. They were true technical masters who had a great sense of storytelling. My dream would to be able to combine those two elements in a film (or die trying).

The filmmakers with the boxing team

I’m not sure that our finished product will be television-friendly. We’re wrestling with aesthetic decisions now, trying to maintain our vision without losing our audience. Ameesha and I certainly have a vision for the film that is not entirely conventional. We like long takes, wide shots, slow motion, slow pacing – letting your eye roam around the frame. At the same time, we want our film to be accessible because the stories are important to us.

AJ: In addition to Anna`s comment about our film being accessible is the consideration of audience reactions from different cultures. Although we can’t predict what the majority will think, we at least understand the audience in Canada better than in India, where we hope the film will be widely viewed. It’s very important for us to give these boxers the media attention they need. But in India, where Bollywood is the popular film format, I really do wonder whether the general population will enjoy our artistic approach. I can only hope.

Anything you’d like to add?

AS: A lot! Not sure what else you’d like to know that isn’t on our website…But here’s a description of our two main characters.

AJ: Women`s boxing will be featured as an Olympic sport for the first time at the 2012 Games in London. Having a chance to compete at the Olympics is the ultimate dream for most athletes. All hopes are on Mary Kom, but no question there are other boxers on their team that have the potential to strike gold and make history. We were in India during the last summer Olympics and witnessed how the three Indians who won a medal were splashed throughout the media. I can only imagine that this display of pride would make a significant difference in changing the social taboos surrounding women`s boxing in India.

Boxing Lessons by Gordon Marino

I offer training in both philosophy and boxing. Over the years, some of my colleagues have groused that my work is a contradiction, building minds and cultivating rational discourse while teaching violence and helping to remove brain cells. Truth be told, I think philosophers with this gripe should give some thought to what really counts as violence. I would rather take a punch in the nose any day than be subjected to some of the attacks that I have witnessed in philosophy colloquia. However, I have a more positive case for including boxing in my curriculum for sentimental education.

The unmindful attitude towards the body so prevalent in the West blinkers us to profound truths that the skin, muscles and breath can deliver like a punch.

Western philosophy, even before Descartes’ influential case for a mind-body dualism, has been dismissive of the body. Plato — even though he competed as a wrestler — and most of the sages who followed him, taught us to think of our arms and legs as nothing but a poor carriage for the mind. In “Phaedo,” Plato presents his teacher Socrates on his deathbed as a sort of Mr. Spock yearning to be free from the shackles of the flesh so he can really begin thinking seriously. In this account, the body gives rise to desires that will not listen to reason and that becloud our ability to think clearly.

In much of Eastern philosophy, in contrast, the search for wisdom is more holistic. The body is considered inseparable from the mind, and is regarded as a vehicle, rather than an impediment, to enlightenment. The unmindful attitude towards the body so prevalent in the West blinkers us to profound truths that the skin, muscles and breath can deliver like a punch.

While different physical practices may open us to different truths, there is a lot of wisdom to be gained in the ring. Socrates, of course, maintained that the unexamined life was not worth living, that self-knowledge is of supreme importance. One thing is certain: boxing can compel a person to take a quick self-inventory and gut check about what he or she is willing to endure and risk. As Joyce Carol Oates observes in her minor classic, “On Boxing”:

Boxers are there to establish an absolute experience, a public accounting of the outermost limits of their beings; they will know, as few of us can know of ourselves, what physical and psychic power they possess — of how much, or how little, they are capable.

Though the German idealist philosopher G.W.F. Hegel (1770-1831) never slipped on the gloves, I think he would have at least supported the study of the sweet science. In his famous Lord and Bondsman allegory,[1] Hegel suggests that it is in mortal combat with the other, and ultimately in our willingness to give up our lives, that we rise to a higher level of freedom and consciousness. If Hegel is correct, the lofty image that the warrior holds in our society has something to do with the fact that in her willingness to sacrifice her own life, she has escaped the otherwise universal choke hold of death anxiety. Boxing can be seen as a stylized version of Hegel’s proverbial trial by battle and as such affords new possibilities of freedom and selfhood.

Erin Schell

Viewed purely psychologically, practice in what used to be termed the “manly art” makes people feel more at home in themselves, and so less defensive and perhaps less aggressive. The way we cope with the elemental feelings of anger and fear determines to no small extent what kind of person we will become. Enlisting Aristotle, I shall have more to say about fear in a moment, but I don’t think it takes a Freud to recognize that many people are mired in their own bottled up anger. In our society, expressions of anger are more taboo than libidinal impulses. Yet, as our entertainment industry so powerfully bears out, there is plenty of fury to go around. I have trained boxers, often women, who find it extremely liberating to learn that they can strike out, throw a punch, express some rage, and that no one is going to die as a result.

And let’s be clear, life is filled with blows. It requires toughness and resiliency. There are few better places than the squared circle to receive concentrated lessons in the dire need to be able to absorb punishment and carry on, “to get off the canvas” and “roll with the punches.” It is little wonder that boxing, more than any other sport, has functioned as a metaphor for life. Aside from the possibilities for self-fulfillment, boxing can also contribute to our moral lives.

Aristotle recognized that a person could know a great deal about the Good and not lead a good life.

In his “Nicomachean Ethics,” Aristotle argues that the final end for human beings is eudaimonia ─ the good life, or as it is most often translated, happiness. In an immortal sentence Aristotle announces, “The Good of man (eudaimonia) is the active exercise of his soul’s faculties in conformity with excellence or virtue, or if there be several human excellences or virtues, in conformity with the best and most perfect among them.”[2]

A few pages later, Aristotle acknowledges that there are in fact two kinds of virtue or excellence, namely, intellectual and moral.[3] Intellectual excellence is simple book learning, or theoretical smarts. Unlike his teacher Plato and his teacher’s teacher, Socrates, Aristotle recognized that a person could know a great deal about the Good and not lead a good life. “With regard to excellence,” says Aristotle, “it is not enough to know, but we must try to have and use it.” [4]

Aristotle offers a table of the moral virtues that includes, among other qualities, temperance, justice, pride, friendliness and truthfulness. Each semester when I teach ethics, I press my students to generate their own list of the moral virtues. “What,” I ask, “are the traits that you connect with having character?” Tolerance, kindness, self-respect, creativity, always make it on to the board, but it is usually only with prodding that courage gets a nod. And yet, courage seems absolutely essential to leading a moral life. After all, if you do not have mettle, you will not be able to abide by your moral judgments. Doing the right thing often demands going down the wrong side of the road of our immediate and long-range self-interests. It frequently involves sacrifices that we do not much care for, sometimes of friendships, or jobs; sometimes, as in the case with Socrates, even of our lives. Making these sacrifices is impossible without courage.

According to Aristotle, courage is a mean between rashness and cowardliness;[5] that is, between having too little trepidation and too much. Aristotle reckoned that in order to be able to hit the mean, we need practice in dealing with the emotions and choices corresponding to that virtue. So far as developing grit is concerned, it helps to get some swings at dealing with manageable doses of fear. And yet, even in our approach to education, many of us tend to think of anything that causes a shiver as traumatic. Consider, for example, the demise of dodge ball in public schools. It was banned because of the terror that the flying red balls caused in some children and of the damage to self-esteem that might come with always being the first one knocked out of the game. But how are we supposed to learn to stand up to our fears if we never have any supervised practice in dealing with the jitters? Of course, our young people are very familiar with aggressive and often gruesome video games that simulate physical harm and self-defense, but without, of course, any of the consequences and risks that might come with putting on the gloves.

Boxing provides practice with fear and with the right, attentive supervision, in quite manageable increments. In their first sparring session, boxers usually erupt in “fight or flight” mode. When the bell rings, novices forget everything they have learned and simply flail away. If they stick with it for a few months, their fears diminish; they can begin to see things in the ring that their emotions blinded them to before. More importantly, they become more at home with feeling afraid. Fear is painful, but it can be faced, and in time a boxer learns not to panic about the blows that will be coming his way.

While Aristotle is able to define courage, the study and practice of boxing can enable us to not only comprehend courage, but “to have and use” it. By getting into the ring with our fears, we will be less likely to succumb to trepidation when doing the right thing demands taking a hit. To be sure, there is an important difference between physical and moral courage. After all, the world has seen many a brave monster. The willingness to endure physical risks is not enough to guarantee uprightness; nevertheless, it can, I think contribute in powerful ways to the development of moral virtue.

NOTES

[1] G.W.F. Hegel, “Phenomenology of Spirit,” Chapter 4.
[2] Aristotle, “Nicomachean Ethics,” Book I, Chapter 7.
[3] ibid., Book I, Chapter 13.
[4] ibid, Book X, Chapter 9.
[5] ibid, Book III, Chapter 7.

Edwin Valero- Boxer - A murder, a suicide, and a bad tattoo

CARACAS, Venezuela – Former boxing champion Edwin Valero, who had a spectacular career with 27 straight knockouts and flouted a tattoo of President Hugo Chavez on his chest, hanged himself in his jail cell Monday after being arrested for stabbing his wife to death, police said.

The former lightweight champion used the sweat pants he was wearing to hang himself from a bar in the cell, said his lawyer, Milda Mora.

Valero, 28, had problems with alcohol and cocaine addiction and struggled with depression. He had previously been suspected of assaulting his wife and was charged last month with harassing her and threatening personnel at a hospital where she was treated for injuries.

Valero's 24-year-old wife, Jennifer Carolina Viera, was found dead in a hotel room on Sunday, and police said the fighter emerged telling hotel security he had killed her.

Valero was found hanging in his cell early Monday by another inmate, who alerted authorities in the police lockup in north-central Carabobo state, Federal Police Chief Wilmer Flores told reporters. He said Valero still showed signs of life when they took him down, but they were unable to save him.

The former WBA super featherweight and WBC lightweight champion was a household name in Venezuela and had a huge image of Venezuela's president tattooed on his chest along with the country's yellow, blue and red flag.

A man whose fists carried him from poverty in a small town to fame, Valero's all-action style soon earned him a reputation as a tough, explosive crowd-pleaser, and his last victory in Mexico in February over Antonio DeMarco brought his record to 27-0 — all knockouts. Venezuelans called him "Inca," alluding to an Indian warrior, while elsewhere he was called "Dinamita," or dynamite.

Valero had a turbulent disposition and had been in trouble with the law before, for violent incidents and problems with alcohol and drugs.

Last month, he was charged with harassing his wife and threatening medical personnel who treated her at a hospital in the western city of Merida. Police arrested Valero following an argument with a doctor and nurse at the hospital, where his wife was being treated for injuries including a punctured lung and broken ribs.

The Attorney General's Office said in a statement that Valero was detained March 25 on suspicion of assaulting his wife, but his wife told a police officer her injuries were due to a fall. When the boxer arrived moments later, he forbade Viera from speaking to the police officer and spoke threateningly to the officer, prosecutors said in a statement.

A prosecutor had asked a court to keep Valero in jail, the Attorney General's Office said. But a judge instead allowed him to remain free under certain conditions including that he appear in court every 90 days, said Mora, his lawyer.

Mora told The Associated Press that after the incident Valero was held for nine days in a psychiatric hospital in Merida, where he underwent police-supervised rehabilitation. She said people close to the fighter posted bail on April 7 and he was allowed to go free.

Valero's manager, Jose Castillo, criticized authorities for failing to act more forcefully to prevent the killing.

"I asked the authorities not to let him out. He needed a lot of help. He was very bad in the head," Castillo told reporters. "But they let him out. They were very permissive with him and because of that, we're now in the middle of this tragedy."

Mora, however, said of Valero: "He was the only one responsible."

She said that the Venezuelan government had arranged for the fighter to attend a drug and alcohol rehabilitation program in Cuba. He had missed a flight to Cuba earlier this month and was scheduled to fly there soon, she said.

The fighter had police escorts who were charged with protecting him. But last week he slipped away from those escorts, leaving his house near Merida with his wife and saying they were headed into town, Mora said.

Valero stayed in touch with his manager by phone but it was unclear how he and his wife turned up days later halfway across Venezuela at the hotel in Valencia, Mora said.

While police suspected Valero was battering his wife, "the only person who could report it was her, and she told her family that he never hit her," Mora said. "She wanted help for him."

Valero also "adored his wife," Mora said. "We were very close to him and we knew there could be this sort of outcome because when he became conscious of what he really had done, he wasn't going to be able to bear not being close to Carolina."

Mora described the fighter as hyperactive and said he suffered from depression. She said in jail the authorities took away his jacket and his shoelaces to prevent him from using them for a suicide attempt, and that he used his sweat pants instead.

Before his death, photographs showed Valero being led away in handcuffs, then shielding his face by pulling down his cap.

The fighter's 8-year-old son and 5-year-old daughter have been staying with their maternal grandmother, Mora said.

Valero had fought mainly in Japan and Latin America because he had trouble obtaining a license to fight in the United States. He suffered a cerebral hemorrhage in a motorcycle crash in 2001, and until the law was changed recently, most jurisdictions refused to grant a license to a fighter who had sustained a brain injury.

He was also charged with drunken driving in Texas, and despite efforts of his promoter, Top Rank, to secure a visa for him, the U.S. government denied his application because of the pending charges.

Valero claimed his application was denied because of politics; he was sympathetic of Chavez, a fierce critic of the U.S. government. U.S. officials say they cannot discuss individual visa cases.

Valero appeared as a special guest at events hosted by Chavez and was lionized by some of the president's supporters as a national hero, while some critics accused him of avoiding punishment for past problems due to his links to the government.

Valero's is the third high-profile suicide of a former boxing champion in the past year.

Hall of Famer Alexis Arguello, the mayor of Managua, Nicaragua, was found dead at his home in July of a gunshot wound to the chest. A few weeks later, Italian-born former super featherweight and junior welterweight champion Arturo Gatti, a naturalized Canadian, was found strangled in the Brazilian resort town of Porto de Galinhas. His wife was arrested as the prime suspect in the death, but authorities later ruled that he committed suicide.

The World Boxing Council lamented Valero's death in a statement, saying he had "happy years" in boxing and that his record will go down in boxing history. The council also said it hopes to help create a fund to pay for the education of Valero's two children.

WBC president Jose Sulaiman has said Valero was replaced as WBC lightweight champion in February after he expressed a desire to compete in a higher weight division.

Promoter Bob Arum, the founder of Top Rank who had been promoting Valero, said the fighter had never displayed such behavior and was "very polite, well spoken, sort of funny."

"It's obvious now, in retrospect, that he should have been institutionalized during this period, but it's silly to play the blame game," Arum said. "Now in retrospect, he clearly should have been getting help."

Mike Tyson daily Training

Much more about getting hurt

This weekend had one of the world's greatest boxer's ever, Manny Pacquiao against a decent opponent, Miguel Cotto. I was able to enjoy the bout at a friend's house along with a few other people from the gym. The host and my boxing trainer got into a lively debate about celebrated pugilists, arguing back and forth who was the best, which fight was the best, which era etc. The lively conversation had me lost in the woods.
One of the bouts they mentioned was the bout between Gerald Mccellan and Nigel Benn. Mccellan knocked Benn out of the ring in the first round, and the floored boxer was pushed back into the pit by ringside officials, and newspaper reporters. Benn went onto win the fight punishing Mccellan with sharp hard hands. Those blows would send Mccellan into a coma for two weeks and the boxer would end up with severe brain damage.



This short interview with him is worth watching. Unlike most sports boxing has always had the threat of death looming over it. It is the only sport where inflicting pain is the goal. While giving is a huge part, the inevitable fact is that the sport is far more about receiving blows than it is about giving them. That said I don't think the sweet science is something that should be avoided, even with its drawbacks, its damages, and its risk, the game invokes people to rise above themselves, an otherwise mundane person can become a hero in the ring for a few minutes.

A "Bad Nigger"

I've been collecting and reading boxing literature for a couple years. There is quite a bit for an enthusiast to devour; short stories by Hemingway, Jack London, FX Toole, full length novels by WC Heinz, Leonard Gardner, and finally there is a plethora of books that compile articles on boxing. The infamous "Sweet Science," by the regular New Yorker writer AJ Liebling is considered a sports classic and perfectly represents boxing literature. The series of articles is both recounts of fights, and depictions of the life surrounding fighters.

Over the last two years I've picked up a handful of books and most recently I picked up "The Art and Aesthetics of Boxing" and "Boxer: An Anthology of Writings on Boxing and Visual Culture." While I haven't gotten to the former I have read most of the latter. "Boxer..." is a beautiful coffee table book with great pictures, and interesting yet short essays. Included, of course, is Joyce Carol Oates famous essay "On Boxing," which is part of virtually every compilation of boxing writing post '95.

The compilation also includes an essay by Keith Piper, entitled "Four Corners, a contest of Opposites." The essay briefly hits on the careers and lives of four african american fighters; Joe Louis, Jack Johnson, Mike Tyson, and Muhammed Ali. Specifically the writer highlights the struggles with racism each fighter as had during his career. It should be noted as well that all four were heavyweights, heavyweights have typically had a larger political burden placed upon their careers as their size is a mitigating factor. Smaller fighters "'... do not sybolise the nation or their race since the biggest fighting men have always had that burden.'"

Piper points out the complexities of being a black fighter succinctly; "The black fighter is forced to negotiate a precarious line between, on the one hand, the prescriptions of the white staus quo, the boxing promotions industry, the press and to an extent, apologist portions of the black middle class; on the other hand, the aspirations of black audiences yearning for an empowering antidote to their powerlessness."


Keith argues that Jack Johnson and Ali contested a symbolic war against the racial status quo while Tyson and Joe Louis conformed to and reinforced the dominant messages about the nature of black masculinity. Tyson's compliance with the spectacle of black masculinity is "expressed in the uniquely late twentieth century terms of individual redemption and condemnation. It attempts to convince us of the possibility of meteoric rise, which it portrays as the All American Way." Of course the subsequent fall of Tyson's career is put on his shoulders as an individual. Yet there are other readings of Tyson's story that go unsaid. "The ones which suggest that Cus D'Amato's only interest in Tyson was as a fighting machine, as product. The teenager's evident sexual aggression was allowed to devolp unchecked as long as he kept knocking other boys over in the ring. ...At the same time Tyson's intellect was deliberately left underdeveloped in order to hone his persona into that of an American pit-bull terrier."

The truth of the situation is probably lost in the dizzy oscillation between individual autonomy and the power of social constructs. It is in this space that we all live.

The Sweet Science

My feet are tight in my black and white shoes. The shoestrings are woven through the holes of my high top shoes, the sensation in my toes is gone. The only feeling there is, is one of anticipation, of anxiety, of calm excitement. Soon the staccato of my bag work will turn into a tattoo into someone's head. I take a deep breath and walk into the ring...



I've been focusing on boxing lately. Partially due to the infrequency of muay thai fights, partially due to my hands being my weakness. Good fighters, good strategists, focus on their weaknesses as much if not more so than their strengths.

I like Mike Tyson. He is a man and yet he is spectacle, he encompasses both. I suppose that is what part of being the spectacle is, that contradiction. One is a star, and yet human. Living above and beyond the normal human life (reputedly) and yet being all too human. For me Tyson is real because of his errors, his blatantly tragic life. I think what is poignant about him is that he showed the monstrosity of what being human is. He lived a life of obvious error, obvious because he was on stage, constantly viewed by the panoptican of the ever filming spectacle (a certain nod to "reality tv" should be made here). I actually don't think that he has done worse or better than any of us out here in "tv land" but because he is on tv, his position is different. His being a star makes his errors more acute. Sadly Tyson is not the only man to do to violence against his lovers, loved ones, and or playmates, he is just the one who has been caught on camera.

On a completely unrelated note I hope to be writing regularly again here. Once a week being my goal. More comments from readers is always an encouragement to write on the regular.

Training Journal 2 "Foxy Boxing"

I arrived at the gym at 7pm. Coke was running on the treadmill and the boxing class was underway. I warmed up with the jump rope. I threw it side to side, taking a hop in between, I twirled the jump rope in one rand then crossed my body. I bounced back and forth, and then lifted my knees up high. Skipping rope can be a bit dull and by "playing with the rope" as Robert says I not only become a little more interested in what I'm doing but improve my work out. Most boxing drills, skipping rope, the double end bag, and the speed ball, to name a few, are all about timing. What good is a great punch if it won't land where and more importantly when it should?

I box sparred 1o rounds tonight and stayed in the ring for a continuous 14. That's a lot for those of you who don't box. Granted the rounds were only two minutes but by round number 5 my body was becoming fatigued. I saw things coming but moved with the slow motion button on. It was as if a fuzzy fog settled on my body's reactions. Fighting through fatigue is important for the fight though.

Not only was the fatigue difficult but the training. Constantly being corrected can be difficult on the self esteem. Training not only builds your body but also your self confidence, your sense of who you are. If you give up and quit during training, well you might as well throw the towel in for the fight. Understanding your tribulations and overcoming them is what makes you strong. "A lesson from life's military school - whatever doesn't kill you make's you stronger," said the fighter's philosopher, Friedrich Nietzsche.

I box sparred mainly with a young, slightly heavier mexican man named Juan. Juan has fought a few amateur boxing bouts and has sharp hands. He got a bit tired in the third round, but was able to recover later (he got breaks, I didn't). Box sparring with him helped me to learn to use my footwork better, and to move my head. I dislike getting brained... after all I do love my intellect.

Tomorrow more training. My new girlfriend's name is Muay Thai. She's from thailand. Isn't that exotic?

Reluctant Hero

Reluctant hero

Kittipong Thongsombat speaks to boxing champion Denkaosan Kaovichit about his long, and rocky, journey to the WBA flyweight title

Published: 18/01/2009 at 12:00 AM

Newspaper section: Sports

Newly-crowned WBA flyweight champion Denkaosan Kaovichit did not like fighting and his boxing career began only because his father wanted him to become a reformed boy.

Denkaosan, whose real name is Waehama Wangmu, was so difficult that his father sent him to a Muay Thai camp where he fought under the name Boonlang Kaovichit.

"My father took me to a boxing camp when I was very young because I was so stubborn," said the 32-year-old from a fishing family.

"At first I did not like fighting. But after a number of fights, I grew to like it."

Because he was reluctant to fight, he lost his first seven bouts earning a mere 180 baht a fight. But he later fell in love with the sport.

He life changed for the better in 1994 when he moved to Bangkok and joined the camp owned by the late promoter Somkid Chukaewrungroj, who was better known as Mai Muangkhon.

At the camp, he stayed with Muay Thai stars such as Oleh Kiatwanchai and Charoenthong Kiatbanchong and wanted to follow in their footsteps.

Although he was successful to a degree earning about 5,000 baht per fight, Denkaosan switched to Queensbury Rules because his promoter felt his powerful punch could take him to a world title.

He beat Filipino Melvin Magramo on points on his debut in 1996, but Denkaosan admits he still favours Muay Thai to Queensbury Rules.

"To be honest, I prefer Muay Thai," said Denkaosan who successfully defended a regional WBA title 18 times on his way to a world title shot.

In Muay Thai, he earned more because he could fight every two months but in professional boxing he could only fight once in four months or more, he said.

"Worse is that you get hurt more in professional boxing because you often have to absorb powerful punches," said Denkaosan who is from the famous resort island of Samui in Surat Thani.

Denkaosan got his first shot at the WBA flyweight title in 2002 but was stopped in the 11th round by American Eric Morel.

He then regained his regional title but lost his appetite for boxing when promoter Somkid passed away.

Without Somkid, Denkaosan moved to the camp of Naris Singwangcha, his current promoter, and in 2007 got another shot at the WBA flyweight title against champion Takefumi Sakata of Japan in a mandatory fight in Japan.

But disappointment followed again for Denkaosan as the fight ended in a controversial draw when the Thai was deducted a point in the final round, without which he would have won.

But it proved third time lucky for Denkaosan on New Year's Eve and this time he did not need the scoring from the judges.

He knocked out Sakata in the second round with a thunderous right hook in a rematch on the last day of 2008.

"That was beyond my expectation," said Denkaosan who trained for three months for the bout. "Although I was confident that I would beat him, I did not think that I would win in such an easy fashion."

He credited his victory to his training staff which included former champion Khaosai Galaxy.

Denkaosan (46-1-1, 20KOs) became the 12th Thai boxer to win a world title abroad and says he has become more popular now with fans greeting him everywhere he goes.

But the father of three says he is still the same person and down to earth.

Naris, who bought Denkaosan for 1.5 million baht from the Mai Muangkhon camp, believes that the boxer became Thailand's 39th world champion because he was ready for the title bout both physically and mentally.

"The boxer was motivated to win the world title and did not have a weight problem," said the promoter.

He believes the best yet to come from Denkaosan, the first Thai Muslim to have won a world boxing title, and that he can still fight for several years.

"With good discipline, Denkaosan can defend the title many times," he said.

However, Denkaosan and Naris disagree about the future. While Naris wants him to fight overseas, Denkaosan prefers to box at home.

Denkaosan says fighting abroad may attract more money but he would also run the risk of being robbed by unfair officiating.

"You have to stop your opponent to make sure that you win," said Denkaosan who got 500,000 baht ($14,400) from his title triumph.

"You do not have much chance to win on points."

The first fight with Sakata has obviously left a deep mark on the boxer.

Denkaosan hopes to make his first title defence in his home town of Samui.

But Naris has a different idea. He believes that to prove Denkaosan is a real champion, and to get more money, he has to fight abroad particularly in Japan where there are a number of flyweights.

"We got only US$60,000 for the last fight and we hope to receive around US$120,000-150,000 for the next bout if he fights in Japan," said Naris.

"You can defend the title 10 times in Thailand but you would earn a small sum and the promoter would be in the red."

Naris plans for Denkaosan to make his first title defence in Japan on May 6 with the challenger being one of the Kameda brothers, Koki or Daiki.

Thailand's Wandee Singwangcha will take on Daiki next month. If Daiki wins, he will take on Denkaosan. If he loses, then his elder brother Koki will challenge Denkaosan.

"Koki looks a tougher opponent but it could be a big fight," he said.

Denkaosan aims to defend his title for seven times before retirement. As he is 32, his handlers have to map out a proper plan for him to reach the target.

That's not a bad end to a career which he started as a reluctant fighter.

The Metallic Taste

I felt rusty moving around the ring. I hadn't box sparred in a week. Two months ago I was getting my face mashed at least three times a week.

"Beat the shit out of them," Mike, my ever supportive trainer said to Fabian.

Fabian is a nineteen year old, 160 pound, latino, who had on his own head gear, the "mark" of a real boxer. The head gear was black with a white interior. A black bar came across the middle of his face, making him look like a medieval knight who doesn't give a fuck about his chin. There was no bottom strap to protect his chin. The head gear was designed to protect his nose. Maybe he thinks he can become a nose model later in life I thought while we waited for the bell to ring. He could wear different types and styles of nose rings. Maybe he wants to become a perfume tester, I continued to muse.

"Ding, Ding," said the round timer as it switched from red to green.

We touched gloves, his white laced up 16oz gloves tapping my own red pillows.

We dance around the ring and I start throwing out my jab. About a third of them connect with his skull. My momentary happiness is smashed away with his fists. I cover up and try to throw a left uppercut right up the middle into his unprotected chin. Yesterday I saw Soren Mongkontron, beat the shit out of a canadian's chin with left uppercuts. The impression had created momentum in my body. The uppercut landed, but given my pillows, my lightweight, and my slow motion speed, nothing happened. There was a slight break than Fabian started in with a combination.

"Work the body, work the body," Mike said.

I began to lower my punches. Fabian is taller than me by a couple inches and getting into his body was like dodging bulltets spewed from a gatling gun. It was only when the round was over that I realized that Mike's advice was for Fabian.

The next round Fabian stood out and I got a go at my training partner Tong Syvatong. Tong and I have been training constantly for our upcoming bout. We run together, we knee spar together, we do sit ups together, we complain about our trainer together. When I think of my friends I think about how well I know them yet with Tong despite all the time we spend together I hardly know him at all... well I know his body. I know he has a slow but powerful right hand. I tried to remember all I knew about my friend.

I jabbed the fuck out of his face and felt some satisfaction when I saw his nose start to drip out red fluid. That meant my jabs, my pawings into the air, was landing right where they were supposed to. Tong stopped to fix his leaking faucet and Fabian came back in the ring. Fabian worked my body a bit more, smashing a left hook into my body. I covered up and tried that left uppercut again with no avail. I started to see Fabian getting tired which lit a small fire under my ass. All I gotta do is work harder than him now, I thought. "His technique won't do him much good if he's gassed" said my fists as they aimed first high, then low into his body. We broke momentarily and I saw his left glove slightly speckled with red. He hasn't boxed Tong yet, I thought. Then I recognized the age old metallic taste in the back of my mouth. A bitter iron in the throat is a trademark of every boxer.

Slip, Weave, and Bob

"Have you ever gotten a bloody nose?" I asked one of the boxers.
"I get bloody noses all the time, my brother," the boxer replied as he swung his gloved hand next to a smaller version of himself "he never gets them."
"Hmph." I said as I shrugged my shoulders and put on the headgear and the 16 ounce gloves. I put my mouthpiece in and stepped into the ring.
"You want to finish out the round?" the boxer asked.
"Yeah let's go."

We touched gloves and began to spar. I jabbed, jabbed again and threw my cross. The boxer slipped the bunches and bobbed then came up into my body with a flurry of punches. The four plus punch flurries would start off being defended but one or two of them would always seem to slip in and whack me. I went back to my two punch combos, my fanciest assault was a one, two, three the third punch being a mixture of a hook or a long left uppercut.

My opponent came in with another flurry. I put my helmet on and tightly covered my head but became quickly confused and fustrated as punches came in from nowhere, my hands moved to the side and I recieved a uppercut right into my nose. My nose seemed to move back into my brain and when it came back down due to gravity's desire blood started dripping down as well. I took off my head gear and walked into the bathroom where I inspected my gusher. It wasn't too bad. I stuffed some toilet paper into my nose and put some vaseline in my nose to make it more difficult for my nose to bleed.

"Did you get a lot of nose bleeds when you were box sparring?" I asked John a boxer at the gym turned desk clerk.
"Yeah I used to get them a lot, your nose hurts real bad, but after a while your nose ends up getting conditioned and it quits bleeding as much."

After my nose quit bleeding I stepped back into the ring and sparred some more. This time I moved around a bit more instead of trying to go toe to toe with my opponent and moving back and forth in a straight line. One of the things that unnerved me though was my ability to move to the right against my opponent without it being dangerous. In muay thai moving to the right against an orthodox opponent is like moving into a right kick. Ouch. Maybe its the same for boxing in that you're moving into the right cross, or hook but it doesn't seem to be as nasty.

The other thing about boxing that I don't fully understand is bobbing. While I respect a boxer's ability to bob and weave its something even when box sparring specificially I never do. The sheer thought of bending over while fighting someone scares the shit out of me. One of the reasons not to bend over and bob or weave in muay thai is that you'll get kneed in the face rather quickly. I'd rather put that off for as long as I possibly can.

For whatever reason tonight after coming home from the gym I feel a little depressed. Maybe its all the blows to the head, or maybe its that I just didn't feel like I was giving it my all or something. I'll go back tomorrow and try to train harder.

A worthwhile boxing site
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