Boxing -- including both amateur and professional -- can be a brutal sport. It combines beauty and ugliness. In regard to this tragic death, it is worth examining how and why it happened. When I fought, boxing in the US was governed by AAU policies and rules. Of course, there were plenty of "club fight cards," without any oversight beyond what the promoter brought to the table. For example, in AAU cards, a doctor had to be at ringside, while in club fights, that never happened.
There were deaths in or after fights, though they were uncommon. More people died playing football or golf. But the amount of damage done in boxing had and has numerous, very negative long-term impact. I fought 329 times, and some of the injuries that the young me ignored are now my constant companiobs. My late brother fought 87 times total, and because "punches didn't hurt," he rarely used defensive skills in the ring. Though from the neck down, he was fine, he sustained serious brain injuries that came into play years after he retired.
Brain damage takes one of two routes: blows to the front of the face, such as Smokin' Joe Frazier took, result in cognitive difficulties, and especially impacr mood and judgement. Blows to the back of the head, think Ali, result in a very different set of motor skills. Neither are anything other than terrible.
Amateur competition today in our country is governed by USA Boxing, a national commission. Thus, if a fighter gets stopped, for example, due to a bloody nose -- which never happened in AAU competition but is common today -- they will not be able to fight again for a period of time. If they are TKOed or KOed, it is a much longer time out of the ring.
Trainers of amateurs take an annual course that includes protecting the fighter's health, both in the ring and gym. Yet not all certified trainers have high standards. There are many trainers who get around the rules in general, by having their fighters compete in club fights, with zero regulation. And there are still plenty of crooked promoters and less-than-solid regional commissioners. I say this as someone who has trained both amateur and pro fighter. Every person I've trained since 1974 has won a Golden Gloves title, and no pro fighter I've trained ever lost the fight. More, where I used to love boxing, these days I have a lot of dislike for it. I've never allowed a person who isn't fully prepared to fight, despite their being angry and thinking I'm wrong to hold to my high standards.
When it comes to standards, it becomes difficult when there are fight cards featuring fighters from the US, Mexico, and/or Canada held outside of our country. The young lady in this case had been knocked unconscious in her lat fight, which had been recently before this one. A good trainer would not have allowed her to train, much less spar, and definitely not fight. Her father was opposed to her fighting, and her trainer said he was. Yet he took her to compete on this card, and was not honest about her condition. In other words, he lied. He is primarily responsible for her death, in my opinion, and should not be training fighters.
Teenagers are not noted for understanding risk. She wanted to fight, and had told her Dad that she wasn't afraid of dying in the ring. I remember being a young teen, and having a friend die from a fight close to 50 years ago. The ride home had me thinking, "Poor Frank," but never connecting his death to the risks involved in boxing. For that was a concept that did not exist for me as a dumb teenager. It's something a trainer needs to be fully aware of, and prepared to act upon.
I have a son and a daughter who box. Do I like that? No. I remind them of the visits to see my (now) late brother, an tragic example of the damage boxing can inflict, even on a tough guy. I have relatives who ask me why I let them fight? I don't -- they are adults. But if they are going to, I say they must meet my standards. (My daughter lives in Boston, so I'm not her trainer of record, and have no say when she competes. But I can research any opponent's USAB record, etc, and add my two cents.) My son, a state light heavyweight champion, has attempted to fight two weight classes higher, against guys with 35+ pounds on him. He made it to the finals two years in a row, the first t6ime stopped on a bloody nose while he was winning the fight. The second year, in the finals, he was ahead on all three judges' scorecards, when he got hit with a hard shot. The referee gave him a "standing eight count," and was about to let the fight continue, when I stopped it.
As I stood on the ring apron, to get the ref's attention, fans were yelling rude things at me. Like I give a shit. A good trainer knows things, from his fighter's breathing to his gate. Back when I used to call fights on a radio show with two other guys, I would accurately point out if a fighter's legs showed me he'd get stopped two rounds later. And I know my own guys much better. Though my son was upset, I knew I had done the right thing. The commissioner came over and said, "Much respect." A few minutes later, I was offered a trainer's position with the US national team, which I declined. I told my son on the ride home that I would not let him spar, much less fight again, for ten months.
My son was supposed to have a fight last weekend. But the promoter refused to allow his more experienced fighter in the ring with my son. I was happy, because my boy would definitely hurt the guy, and I don't want to see that. In one of his last fights, my boy had the #4 heavyweight in serious trouble, and held back to encourage the ref to stop the fight. A trainer told me afterwards that I need to "teach him to kill" in the ring. I said that isn't anything I would ever do. So, instead, my son is on his way out of state, to run a 50K race with 60 obstacles. I prefer that type of competition to boxing.
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