The Beauty about Boxing

“I believe every man should love and know boxing,” Bucky said as he took off his training gloves after an intense training session. Tim said “But it depends on how you see boxing” Tim has always been the philosophical guy in a rowdy bunch of boxers. Despite his age and roughing it up in the boxing ring. He was never forged to be a boxer. Some say he was meant to be a teacher but an act of rebellion made him a boxer. Bucky in his hometown was a hero, all the children adored him. He was the Man's Man in every conversation, he was the ladies’ man in every gossip from the local girls at the market. To add more praise. He was and still is the hero in every child's imagination. “See you tomorrow guys”, Bucky said as he picked up his training bag and walked out of the gym, all pumped up and feeling ready for his fight next week. Tim muttered under his breath, “I just hope he swings a left.” The whole village knew and possibly the whole world adored Bucky’s left-hand swing that landed heavily on each opponent. It was a classic Bucky move. Move to the corner of the boxing ring, like a wounded hyena. Limp right, limp left lift the right hand slightly. Then with a quick move, the left-hand lands the ultimate blow. Which is always and always is a knockout.

Boxer Muhammad Ali steps away from a punch thrown by boxer Joe Frazier during their heavyweight title fight at Madison Square Garden in 1971. Frazier became the undisputed heavyweight champ of the world by winning by a unanimous 15-round decision. Source GETTY IMAGES

Dear reader, boxing is a dance that is beautiful and hard at the same time, a dance that tests the man, despite the countless training and runs to keep fit. Boxing always deals an unexpected blow at any time.

We all knew that except Bucky. He believed boxing him, was his creation. A sport born for him, to define it. Yes, he was Bucky and boxing was his calling. “I just wish he swings the left,” Tim mentioned to his close friend Charles. “What is it with you and the left-hand swing?” Charles asked.

“The left wing is our ticket out of here, my friend” Tim replied.

Tim was a wise old person, Charles probably thought that Bucky's win will be the last fight Tim would be in as a coach, all through the years. He has been a trusty coach and father figure. He wanted to believe that Tim has had enough of boxing or at least Bucky's constant bravado.

Bucky's sense of belief in himself was what won with the people. His confidence is what everyone wished they had and sadly they could not get. He was Bucky. The man with the meanest left punch.

Dear reader, have you ever watched a boxing match? Take away the cheers and clangs of the bell. Take away the seemingly quick steps of the referee. What are you left with? Two men, by destiny placed inside a boxing ring.Until one victor will emerge from the gore

“The left, the left...the left” Bucky said as he wore his red gloves on the day.

The loud cheers from the 50,000-seater stadium. The loud cheers and occasional jeers from the opponents' team. All Bucky needed to do was land a heavy left. Bucky stepped out of his locker room, raging bull charisma flowing through him. Red gloves, red shorts, and his trusty left punch. His community only knew his heavy left-hand swing, his opponents only feared the left swing that always made him the victor. As he went into the ring, Bucky let loose his left punch but he met a left punch that left him dazed. How can someone throw a punch like me? Bucky feared that finally, he met his match. An opponent that boxed like him and sadly to him, who threw a punch just like him. Bucky landed with a thud as each left punch dragged him down to the floor, the loud calls of the referee to pull him back into reality and back into the boxing ring all disappeared within an earshot. Dear reader, that is the beauty of boxing, you never know when the punch will hit you, a left punch that you always used on your opponents will bring you down. “Hey, where is Tim?”, Bucky asked as he searched the lonely boxing ring. “I am right here, champ. We live to fight another day”, Tim said with a faint whimper as he lifted his defeated champ off the floor. “Yes, we sure will, next time. We use the right punch...we use the right-hand punch. Right, Bucky?” The old and wise Tim said. In the eyes of Tim, Bucky was still the champ. To him, boxing is beautiful because the unknown future is beautiful to him. Charles came running as he said. “Just another day Tim...just another day to watch this great and beautiful game.” Hello Faith...goodbye doubt...I met grace and greatness on my way out and that is why I will never give up. - James Reed.