Fight Night

Recently, my buddy Brendan was able to get tickets to boxing at Madison Square Garden. Since I had never been to a live boxing match, and had only been to the Garden once, I was pretty excited to go. Plus, this was big--there would be several titles decided, and the final fight would be on Showtime.

Since these tickets were given to Brendan by Don King's lawyer, we had some of the best seats in the house. It was great being there; it's a raw experience that's so much better than watching on TV. We were probably about 50 feet from the ring, and right at eye level. I guess considering Mr. King's profile and status in the world of boxing, that stands to reason. Many other things, however, do not stand to reason.

The following are things I noticed at my first American boxing match:

1. Don King may very well be clinically insane. I didn't meet him, mind you: although we were apparently in his seats, he never seemed to want to sit down. What he did do, for the entirety of the 6-match evening, he walked around the ring waving tiny flags.

He had several of them in his hands (on little wooden poles), and their number seemed to grow as the hours passed. The idea was simple -- many nationalities were represented in the ring that night, and as always, he was on everyone's side. At one point I think he had 15 flags in his hands.

So that's all he did... all night. He just shuffled around the ring (I emphasize shuffle-he may as well have been wearing slippers and had his pants around his ankles) smiling with a blank look in his eyes. If he were doing the same thing on the streets of New York, he might very well be committed. If he were doing it in a mental institution, a pleasant nurse might whisper to you: "Oh, that's just Mr. King. He's well-medicated, and pan-patriotic."

2. Moreso than any other sport (and that includes baseball), boxing draws the most vocal and mind-numbingly repetitive fans. At each fight, new fans emerged, and each cheered on their fighter with words of their own choosing. Repeated. Ad nauseum.

One fighter's nickname was "Touch of Sleep". The people behind us repeated only two things during the entire fight -- "Pick up the phone!" and "Touch of sleep!"

Pick up the phone, Touch of Sleep! Touch of Sleep, pick up the phone!

"Pick up the phone" means to put your hands up by your face (much as you would when you are on the phone), so as to protect yourself. This is advice that, while appropriate, is probably not necessary. If a 250-pound man is trying to dislodge your cerebellum from its moorings, self-preservation instinct alone would instruct you to "pick up the phone". A friend's entreaties from the 10th row are probably white noise. Repeated over and over, I can say for sure that they are annoying to your neighbors.

During another fight, an older woman had a couple of cheers in her repertoire: "Stick and move, baby, stick and move." and "Fight your fight". Again, you could tell her heart was in the right place. But these are things that are probably not necessary to hear for a professional prize fighter. He's unlikely to think that he should "Stick and Stand There!" or "Fight with an unproven, untested strategy that plays into my opponents strengths!!" If you're beaten about the head enough, you learn that you should move away from people that you just hit, because they will want to hit you back.

I think it's the constant danger of boxing. Knowing that any punch could be the last, spectators feel that they must constantly be vigilant, and that clapping alone won't do the trick.

3. Most Polish people seem to smoke cigarettes and drink heavily. Most Polish people love former heavyweight champion Andrew Golota (he of the infamous low blows). Roughly 1/8 of the population of Poland was on hand at Madison Square Garden to cheer on Mr. Golota, drink a lot and smoke in the men's bathroom. I felt like I was peeing in a chimney.

4. There are few things in sports more exciting than seeing a right hook land clean, hearing your instinctive "Whoooa!" blend in with thousands of others, and standing up to see if a guy who is stumbling can survive the barrage of someone who wants nothing more than to knock him down.

I'm hoping I get to see another fight soon. Since he seems to be a collector, I may send Mr. King a flag as a thank you.... maybe he doesn't have Suriname.