When contemplating attending a boxing match, I did not consider the shame and fear in the eyes of the defeated. Had I done so I would not have gone.
Of course I know that I dislike violence but I imagined that I’d be more of the mind that boxing provides opportunity and discipline for young men that would otherwise be forced into careers as rat-catchers and rent boys. But as I watched an undercard bout at the MGM Grand before Ricky Hatton and Manny Pacquiao took to the ring I saw in the eyes of the lad on the ropes an identifiable dread.
The emotion that I’d feel if I found myself in a glittery, over-lit cavern, swirling moths lost in the abyss, greased and sweating whilst highly calibrated blows lanced my consciousness? Dread. A dread that would be exacerbated further if, through the headache being pummelled in from without, I glanced down to see I was wearing awful satin trunks.
Boxer shorts – the type of pants that bear that name are bad enough but at least they’re comparatively succinct next to those gleaming bloomers that actual boxers wear, which never cease. They begin at the ribs and merrily resolve only when they’ve transgressed the knee. Given that they’re called trunks they ought to be a little more truncated; currently they maraud across the pugilist’s form like Nazis.
Before Ricky Hatton enters, the chanting rolls down the raked seating, a tide of English din. The overtly American atmosphere of Las Vegas is temporarily rinsed away and with the belligerent “Kiss me quick – squeeze me slow” rancour of the horde I am reminded that really this place is not so different from Blackpool. “Walking in a Hatton wonderland” they sing, and their anthem is self-fulfilling for with each rendition the utopia is further augmented.
Amongst them I feel an uncommon surge of fraternity and patriotism. The people I was with were confident Americans but few would be reckless enough to challenge the sovereignty of the venue, so damn British that when, on Ricky’s arrival, the actual national anthem was played, I bloody well sang along. As much as I could because the lyrics are a bit obtuse. I get all the “noble Queen” and “send her victorious” stuff but the bit just before the first “God save our Queen”, which I just discovered is “long to reign over us”, has never breached my cognisance till now.
How many times have I been subjected, literally, to that bloody song and still the words are a mystery? I just looked them up: verse two includes the line “confound their knavish tricks” – that’s berserk. Do we really, as a nation, have to confound knavish tricks so frequently that it needed to be incorporated into our country’s theme tune? What a lot of rhubarb.
“The Dutch are planning a series of knavish tricks – only God, in conjunction with the Queen, can confound them. Stick it in the anthem.”
Nonetheless, in the highly jingoistic atmosphere of the MGM Grand I stood and sang along; I suppose because abroad one’s primal need to belong is enhanced and if boxing as a sport is one thing, it is primal. Men standing punching each other’s heads till one of their brains turns off.
Ricky Hatton is a lovely man and so it seems is Manny Pacquiao, the latter almost a statesman through his sport, and through their endeavour both men have achieved stature and dignity. For them to then become the hollering focus of a bawling, vicarious mob hate-wank is on the whole not a positive step for our spiritual evolution as a species.
I felt so sorry for Ricky as he went down, his pride temporarily undone. When I voice this most people gurgle up some cunk about the millions the fighters receive. I’m glad they’re well remunerated because in the moment where darkness closes in around the battered mind perhaps the money provides some compensation.
I don’t think I’ll go to boxing again. I’m not suggesting it be banned or that nothing positive comes from it because I know people whose lives have been positively touched by the sport. But I do think it celebrates aspects of our nature which ought be handled with caution and respect because we are ultimately animals and if we do not regard that then, oddly, our humanity is compromised.
That is why I love football – unifying, exciting, beautiful, significantly less violent (with one or two obvious exceptions) football. When football is played by the rules the only people who get hurt are the fans.
First published in The Guardian, Saturday 9th May 2009
I love you Russell, I really do. I brag on your intelligence as if you where family. Your comedy was over my head until I payed closer attention and then did that V8 slap in the head realizing that your comedy was in fact genius. I’ve grown to sort of want to protect and defend you as a valued gem or a cherished 24 ct piece of gold, a treasure to have and hold, would warrant. Even if I have a difference of opinion with you I have to cautiously consider and reconsider your point of view so as to not completely disregard what you are saying as inconceivably differing than mine. I love how you really make me actually THINK. It’s a treat I look forward to. It’s why I’m such a fan of yours, how can anyone not be, if they actually “get you”. I understand your propensity for non violence. I truly do, after all, you have an understanding of Krishna so it’s to be expected. Still, Russell, you also know sports, so I’m having a hard time trying to figure if it’s really about the violence or just boxer shorts lol. I trained in kick boxing for years, a woman, yes, trained even still, it is not like we are just put out there in the ring with no knowledge of what is happening around us or like we are lab animals. You must not forget that those men are highly trained conditioned sportsmen, it’s not only about being knocked out, with each legal punch a point is tallied and it doesn’t matter how soft or hard the punch is, points go towards winning the match, whether there is a knockout or not. I do respect your point of view none the less, sometimes watching it on TV is better than being there, personally I think the crowd makes it more violent than what it actually is, speaking from someone who’s actually trained in the sport. Also, to do the actual sport itself is fun, surprisingly enough. Russell keep doing what you. You truly are loved.
I couldn’t agree with you more hun….Boxing always makes me sad..
Well done, Russell. We miss you.
You have a beautiful grace and a lovely way with words…..I am looking forward to Leno!!
Great blog mate! i’m from Manila though.. i agree with you..boxing’s a violent sport, but in The Philippines, most people think it isn’t- but just pure sport… especially if the boxers rise from poverty and rise to where they are now.
‘Knavish tricks’ are the bane of my existance over here in Ol’ Blighty.
Maybe if you left your new American life for long enough you’d notice them a bit more. As I type these very words I can see some sort of silly knave placing a bucket of water atop a door frame. But who will have the last laugh?
Still missing you,
Anna
xxx
hey russ.1 of your followers from twitter.just checkin your links out.lol not watchin boxin nomore boy look like he was dyin.
Awesome post, perceptive as ever. Oh I saw Bedtime Stories the other day, the film suffers at any point you’re not on the screen (“AAAGH!Sorry, justing resting my eyes”)
Yes boxing is indeed a brutal sport. Saying that though, have you ever seen Ong Bak? You’ve got to admire someone who decides “In the name of the Thai martial arts film industry, I shall set fire to my knees!”
How I have missed your blogs, and this one is superb. One for my ‘inspirational bits of writing” file. We should always contemplate the meaning of things. Think of the different choices we might make as nations, races, cultures and a species.
xo
Yes. Football is glorious. Beautiful blog Russell, very honest and insightful.
I was waiting/hoping for your reflections on the boxing match. When you first posted on twitter that you were attending, I was slightly worried with how the whole evening would leave you…thanks for sharing your reflections with us.
being Canadian, I now can safely say that, having sung that anthem for years I must agree… she has reigned over us a great long time… PROPHECY?
now boxing and dread on the other hand… you must recall the dread you felt playing football in your youth… I know I did
besides… in boxing they are bashing each other’s heads in for a “purse”… it must go really nicely with those flowing short trousers
I was reminded of Morrissey’s “Boxers” as I read this.
it really does shock me still that ur a fan of football couldnt imagine u at a match with ur lingo lol. ur havin too much fun in L.A…come bak to england mr brand!!!!! oo also love the fact that even with ur last scandal andrew sachs has managed to grab a bit of fame from it and is starring in corrie this week …haha dont miss it xx
yeah, hatton is still a good fighter. his time has came, i think, that’s all. he cant take the punches like he used to.