TrueBboxing Story...

FROM THE DIARY: January 23, 2004: When most people attend a boxing match to watch two professional boxers go at it they more than likely only see the boxers and what happens to them that night. Especially the prelim fighters that are largely unknown. How many people really think about the fighters and what their stories are? Do people even consider that these guys have stories? Why do they fight? What motivates them? What got them into it? What are their goals? How did they get started and what will it take to one day get them to stop? I remember back around 1994 there was a guy in my gym, a six round prelim fighter named Freddy. Average guy. No big amateur background or anything like that and certainly not considered even a "prospect." No real potential for a long career as a pro, either. What he was, really, was a six round guy, a club fighter who would go on to have only a handful of fights that allowed him to make a little bit of extra money here and there before packing it in. He got a call one day to go up to Boston to fight a local undefeated kid there and, since it was only a few weeks away from Christmas, he took the fight. He wasn't in the best of shape but he had a seven year old son at home that was looking forward to having Santa come down that chimney in a few weeks. I guess Freddy figured he was brought in as an opponent and was likely to lose the fight but he still had enough pride in him that he kept reminding everyone on the way up to the fights that he was "doing this for my son." He figures he isn't going to win the fight and just wants everybody to know before the fight what his excuse/reason will be for after the match is done. So the fight comes and little short, stocky Freddy goes in the ring and the last thing he tells his trainer before he goes out to meet his fate is, "I'm doing this for my son, you know?" The bell rings to begin round one and the local favorite, a former Golden Gloves champion from the area, comes out to dispatch the opponent according to the assumed script that has been written into the minds of all the local fans in attendance. Less than two minutes later the fight is over and the winner jumps into the air and runs around the ring in happiness before jumping into the arms of his trainer. The very next day he is right back in the gym, not to train but to bask in that victory glory that all fighters love to bathe in on their initial return to their home gym. One of the guys in the gym goes up to him to ask about another guy that fought on the show the previous night but all the winner wanted to talk about was his victory twenty hours earlier. In a thick spanish accent he excitedly tells the guy, "Me. Me! I won the fight last night. I beat him. I knock heem out." Yup. He sure did. He did it for his son.