"From Pillar to Post": What to make of Quitting

What to make of Quitting By Ryan Songalia 8-22-06 http://www.infiniteboxing.com/images/corrales_freitas03.jpg Courage is a term that is frequently used incorrectly in sports. I scoff at announcers who describe a point guard slashing to the hoop or a batter knocking in the go ahead run as an act of bravery. Throw in a man trying to knock off their heads as they perform these feats, then we'll see how brave they really are. Boxing is unique in that it requires superhuman character to do what they do. When a fighter quits during a fight, it is interpreted as being the worst thing they can ever do. After all, quitting is the complete antithesis of the code of the boxer, to go out on his shield regardless of circumstances. Is it fair to deride a fighter who simply decides he has reached his limit? Well, let's take a look at it. A boxer is a special breed of human, one who is willing to push their hearts to the limit in order to prove their valor. The ones who separate themselves from the pack are the ones who ultimately give more than the next. Just like us though, boxers are flesh and blood mortals with a pulse and a mortgage. No fighter wants to quit, it's not exactly something that a boxer wakes up every morning thinking about before putting in an hour of hard roadwork. Lets face it though, boxing is a violent sport, and you can die in the ring. The allure of boxing however, is the triumph of humans perservering through adverse conditions. So when a fighter voluntarily ends a fight, the crowd and viewers are going to react with disgust and displeasure. To an extent, thats their right. The audience pays good money to see two guys try to kill each other, expecting to get their dollar's worth. When an anti-climactic ending like that occurs, the fans can't help but feel short changed by the defeated competitor. Analyzing a fighter's mid-bout resignation is something that should be done case by case. Some incidents, like in situations when a fighter is in clear danger of suffering serious injury, are acceptable, if not entirely popular. In 1995, Genaro Hernandez elected to halt the bout after the seventh round of his encounter with Oscar De La Hoya. At first glance, many observers immediately concluded that Hernandez was discouraged by the one-sidedness of the combat and resigned to save himself the trouble. Later on though, it was revealed that he had suffered multiple fractures in his nose. In such extreme circumstances of injury, there is no reason to continue fighting. Similarly, Mamadou Thiam understood the impossible predicament he encountered in his unsuccessful title chance against Felix Trinidad. With both his eyes badly swollen and unable to defend himself from the torrent of abuse, Thiam conceded defeat when it became long since apparent that his fate was no longer being contested. Retiring, or resigning as it is referred to in some cultures, is not always judged identically in other areas. When Ukrainian heavyweight Vitali Klitschko stayed on his stool after the ninth round of his fight with Chris Byrd, his actions were ridiculed and looked disdainfully upon by the American press. It was revealed that he had suffered a serious injury to his left rotator cuff in the third round, and had gone on with progressively increasing pain. In Klitschko's native Soviet Union, it is almost a preposterous notion to continue fighting in the midst of a potentially dangerous situation. The confusion and differing stance on self preservation added to the fire storm that threatened to destroy Vitali's credibility as a fighter. In retrospect, it may have been a wise decision to pull out as it gave him the opportunity to recover and participate in some of his best performances. When Julio Cesar Chavez quit on his stool against Oscar De La Hoya, it seemed contradictory to his never say die reputation in previous years. However, by that time Chavez was an aging champion well beyond his capable years and De La Hoya was a bigger, younger fighter in the prime of his abilities. It is highly unfathomable to picture Chavez doing that ten years earlier. The most infamous example of quitting during a fight was Roberto Duran's declaration of "no mas" in his second fight with Ray Leonard. Leonard had been dominating the living legend with his superior speed and craft. After what had been a demonstration of how to exploit a slower fighter, Duran turned his back in the eighth round and informed the official of his resignation. No mas, a spanish phrase that translates to no more, became an instant cliche' that described a competitor retiring from combat. Duran cited stomach issues as his reason to halt the contest, with rumors of his post weigh-in acts of gluttony becoming urban legend in the boxing community. However, consensus opinion suggests that Duran had been defeated mentally by the humiliating taunting and mind games that Leonard used tactically to gain an edge in the bout. Duran had earned a reputation as a fearless warrior, and it is unlikely that Leonard's less than thudding combinations would have convinced "Manos De Piedras" to end the action prematurely from his opponent's blows alone. Duran interpreted Leonard's tactics as violating boxing's code, but nonetheless you cannot just walk away like that without facing some consequences. Duran's post fight expression read loud and clear that he understood that as well. Of course, a fighter quits at his own risk. No matter how you cut it, there is no way you can completely avoid backlash from that decision. Boxing is a sport that honors improbable bravery, and when you do anything unbefitting a gladiator, your integrity will be challenged. It is ultimately a fighter's decision to decide to voluntarily quit, and they understand the reprecussions of doing so. In order for a fighter to attain greatness, he must dare to be great. That means going above and beyond the limits of his peers and taking chances that seem foolish to most, but in your mind just a matter of will. The reasons someone would quit varies from fighter to fighter. Some fighter's allow success and money steal away their fueling rage that had kept the man hungry. Fighters who have lost their vigor and drive through achievement and contentment may be less willing to give as much of their bodies as they would have in younger years. The pressures of a high intensity professional bout is something that one needs to be conditioned to through experience and growth. A young fighter without the proper development may be ill-equipped to handle a tough tassle against a seasoned veteran with some old school tricks up his sleeves. In recent years, the example of Hector Camacho Jr. has become the standard of a young fighter biting off more than he could chew. In a more physical bout than he had ever previously encountered, he copped out of a fight in which the tough veteran Jesse James Leija had been spanking the young prospect in embarrassing fashion. Camacho's reputation never recovered, and neither did his heart. This issue could be eliminated in many incidents if those in charge of the fighters' well being brought their A games every night. A fighter's first line of defense is his corner. His chief second is his outside perspective, the one whose responsibility it is to make decisions on his unbattered behalf. One trainer I commend for helping to protect his fighters' physical and general well-being is Jeff Fenech. Working in Hussein Hussein's corner in his first fight with Jorge Arce, Fenech acted hastilly in rescuing his finished charge right on schedule when his fighter had nothing left to offer. Wishing to conceal Mike Tyson's surrender against Kevin McBride, Fenech put on a Rocky-esque hysterics display ending the fight. Of course some have their off days, as he perhaps prematurely threw in the towel in Hussein's rematch with Arce the following year. Still, a trainer who puts his fighter's health in high regards is nothing short of admirable. The people in charge of a fighter's affairs should make sure that the man is in a healthy mental state. If a fighter is distracted by external problems, a traumatic experience in the ring or other concerns, the managers and promoters should not allow their man to compete when he isn't in top form. In 1997, Lennox Lewis and Oliver McCall met for the second time for the vacant WBC heavyweight alphabelt. McCall was clearly in distress from his substance abuse issues and in no condition to fight. In the middle of the fight, McCall dropped his guard and surrendered by walking away apathetically and not protecting himself at all times. In the aftermath of the debacle, McCall was checked into a rehabilitation center to get the treatment he needed. The public is always going to bash a fighter who pulls out of a match. Boxing is a game of high risks and uncompensating reward. A fighter is the proudest of competitor, a symbol for ultimate bravery and character. A fighter quitting is always going to be a negative on their permanent ledger, but its an inevitability as long as mortals are in the ring. The code of the fighter dictates that a boxer be a warrior, ready to give his life in search of success. When a fighter signs that figurative contract with the fans to become a boxer, he agrees to go out and defend his honor until he can give no more. It is the law of the fraternity, and it is expected to be observed by all fighters. If you have any questions or comments, email me at mc_rson@yahoo.com . My Myspace address is http://www.myspace.com/asian_sensation201 . My Friendster is http://www.friendster.com/songalia . Special thanks to Bernadette Robinson and Keisha Devine.