Mama Said Knock You Out
If there's one thing I've never really understood, besides America's fascination with Kelly "Look At Me!" Ripa, it is the world's love affair with sports. One sport in particular comes to mind. That sport is boxing. I know you thought for sure I'd say curling. I don't get that one either, but that's more of a "seven wonders of the world" kinda clueless, so I'm not about to tackle it now.
Recently I watched the movie Cinderella Man starring Russell Crowe. It was the (mostly) true story of a down on his luck boxer named James J. Braddock. Braddock boxed during the Great Depression in order to feed and clothe his family. Most people assumed he was washed up. But just like most great stories, Braddock beat the odds and went on to win the World Championship title, defeating a man who was known for killing not one, but two men in the ring.
Despite my feelings towards boxing, I found the movie to be entertaining enough. The kids were cute. The story was compelling. The music swelled in all the right places. But perhaps most importantly, I got to play let's find Clint Howard, a standard procedure now for all Ron Howard productions.
But back to my original point about how I never cared much for sports. I'll be the first to admit; I'm a lover, not a fighter. I'm not overly competitive and as a great man once said, "He who dies with the most toys, still dies." Ok, so it wasn't exactly a great man since I got it from a No Fear t-shirt. Sue me.
Although I don't get the obsession people have with most sports, I somewhat get the enjoyment. For instance, the goal in any sport, be it a solo event or one where you play well with others, is simple: YOU WANT TO WIN. Football, two teams, make a lot of goals, win. Soccer, two teams, make a lot of goals, win. Bowling, one guy, hit a lot of strikes, win...see the pattern?
Only in boxing it's not like that. Sure in sports like football, soccer and baseball you've got injuries that occur, but with boxing the injuries are NECESSARY in order for one man to win. Seriously. The whole point of this sport is right there in the cards Benatar laid down on the table. Hit me with your best shot. Fire away. And if that wasn't convincing enough I've got two words for you: Muhammad Ali.
Don't get me wrong. I'm all for learning how to fight to defend oneself. But this, unlike the hokey pokey, isn't what boxing is all about. Boxing is about beating the shit out of someone. In fact, the more beaten the better. Your goal is not to get an innocent little ball in between two posts or a puck into a net. No. Your goal is to rearrange the other guy (or as the case may be, girl's face). Of course, as we all know, hockey has attempted in recent years to combine both sports, but that's not important now.
Weighing in at this corner is the target audience for boxing, young to middle aged males. The same goes for another paradox of the sporting world, wrestling. Two peas in a pod they are. So somebody then please tell me why so many men enjoy watching two men go at it like that? I mean there's the jab. The hook. The upper cut. I know the lingo. I know the score. But in between all these fancy words I just threw out that I really know nothing about, they do this weird hug/dance type deal. I don't know what the hell that is. I guess it's supposed to be an effort to tackle the other fighter, but all it really looks like is they are resting or they are going Jagger/Bowie right before our eyes, if you catch my drift.
No. I'm convinced the real reason most men are so obsessed with boxing is because it's all smoke and mirrors. They are not so much interested in the knock outs going on between the two guys as they are in the "knock outs" that prance around the ring, announcing it's the beginning of a new round. Yes my friends, they are the real draw for most warm blooded males. Ladies, don't let them tell you otherwise. It's also the main reason they get so pissed when a fight ends early. It's about time the gloves come off on this one.
Now I'm no dunce. Boxing has about as much of a chance of going away tomorrow as the real Russell Crowe does of staying out of trouble with the law. But that doesn't mean the whole idea of beating someone to a pulp shouldn't be down for the count.All I'm saying is if more women would just wear silk boxer shorts to the bedroom at night, I have a hunch the intrigue would dwindle. I'm not even pulling any punches.
Recently I watched the movie Cinderella Man starring Russell Crowe. It was the (mostly) true story of a down on his luck boxer named James J. Braddock. Braddock boxed during the Great Depression in order to feed and clothe his family. Most people assumed he was washed up. But just like most great stories, Braddock beat the odds and went on to win the World Championship title, defeating a man who was known for killing not one, but two men in the ring.
Despite my feelings towards boxing, I found the movie to be entertaining enough. The kids were cute. The story was compelling. The music swelled in all the right places. But perhaps most importantly, I got to play let's find Clint Howard, a standard procedure now for all Ron Howard productions.
But back to my original point about how I never cared much for sports. I'll be the first to admit; I'm a lover, not a fighter. I'm not overly competitive and as a great man once said, "He who dies with the most toys, still dies." Ok, so it wasn't exactly a great man since I got it from a No Fear t-shirt. Sue me.
Although I don't get the obsession people have with most sports, I somewhat get the enjoyment. For instance, the goal in any sport, be it a solo event or one where you play well with others, is simple: YOU WANT TO WIN. Football, two teams, make a lot of goals, win. Soccer, two teams, make a lot of goals, win. Bowling, one guy, hit a lot of strikes, win...see the pattern?
Only in boxing it's not like that. Sure in sports like football, soccer and baseball you've got injuries that occur, but with boxing the injuries are NECESSARY in order for one man to win. Seriously. The whole point of this sport is right there in the cards Benatar laid down on the table. Hit me with your best shot. Fire away. And if that wasn't convincing enough I've got two words for you: Muhammad Ali.
Don't get me wrong. I'm all for learning how to fight to defend oneself. But this, unlike the hokey pokey, isn't what boxing is all about. Boxing is about beating the shit out of someone. In fact, the more beaten the better. Your goal is not to get an innocent little ball in between two posts or a puck into a net. No. Your goal is to rearrange the other guy (or as the case may be, girl's face). Of course, as we all know, hockey has attempted in recent years to combine both sports, but that's not important now.
Weighing in at this corner is the target audience for boxing, young to middle aged males. The same goes for another paradox of the sporting world, wrestling. Two peas in a pod they are. So somebody then please tell me why so many men enjoy watching two men go at it like that? I mean there's the jab. The hook. The upper cut. I know the lingo. I know the score. But in between all these fancy words I just threw out that I really know nothing about, they do this weird hug/dance type deal. I don't know what the hell that is. I guess it's supposed to be an effort to tackle the other fighter, but all it really looks like is they are resting or they are going Jagger/Bowie right before our eyes, if you catch my drift.
No. I'm convinced the real reason most men are so obsessed with boxing is because it's all smoke and mirrors. They are not so much interested in the knock outs going on between the two guys as they are in the "knock outs" that prance around the ring, announcing it's the beginning of a new round. Yes my friends, they are the real draw for most warm blooded males. Ladies, don't let them tell you otherwise. It's also the main reason they get so pissed when a fight ends early. It's about time the gloves come off on this one.
Now I'm no dunce. Boxing has about as much of a chance of going away tomorrow as the real Russell Crowe does of staying out of trouble with the law. But that doesn't mean the whole idea of beating someone to a pulp shouldn't be down for the count.All I'm saying is if more women would just wear silk boxer shorts to the bedroom at night, I have a hunch the intrigue would dwindle. I'm not even pulling any punches.
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