June 9, 2002
He knocked the fuck out of him
I watched my first real boxing match last night. Phyllis needed to see Lennox Lewis knock the fuck out of Mike Tyson last night, so we ordered the Pay-Per-View and gathered around the big screen to watch it all happen. I have never been interested in watching two grown men punch each other out, considering that I see enough of it in every day life. And being a pacifist, it's not easy to watch...or so I thought. I was only there to humor them all and imbibe in the champers and Mary Jane, but after it all got started, I was amazed at how enthralled I became.
The sport of boxing really does reduce one to their most base levels, cheering for the strongest of the two to survive. And after eight rounds, that's exactly what happened. I am not a fan of Mike Tyson as a human being. His conduct leaves so much to be desired, so naturally my choice for the winner was Mr. Lewis. But at the back of my mind, I was wondering if the animal instincts that makes Mike Tyson a winner would also allow him to defeat Lennox Lewis. Nope. Mr. Lewis, as was later explained to me, was trained as an Olympic boxer much more so than Mr. Tyson was, and he uses that training more than Mr. Tyson does. That obviously gave him an advantage over the match. He was restrained and poised and possessed endurance and stamina. It was odd to watch this man, Mr. Tyson, who does nothing but spew out verbal threats and proclamations almost cower in front of Mr. Lewis. And in the end, Mr. Lewis knocked the fuck out of Mr. Tyson.
What was even more surprising to me was during the final conversation, after the match had been won. I was amazed to see Mike Tyson, this big, tough brute of a man reach over and wipe the blood that was trickling down Lennox Lewis' big, proud face. It was almost surreal to me. I just assumed that boxers hated each other, but it appeared last night that they had been friends in the past, and each had a great deal of respect for the other. It seems like it would be easier to hate someone in order to have to beat the living shit out of them for fun. But I guess that's just twisted ol' me.
And damn, you should have seen Phyllis hit the roof when her guy won.
This isn't to say that I've changed my mind about boxing, because it still is a little too violent for my tastes, but now I can certainly see the draw. Maybe it'll grow on me.
