NEW YORK — Few great boxers make it through their careers
without a great nickname. In team sports, nicknames like the
Manassa Mauler, Sugar Ray, Marvelous Marvin, Raging Bull, Smokin’
Joe, and the Hitman — to say nothing of less genteel names from
earlier eras like the Brown Bomber, the Jew Killer, and the Boston
Tar Baby — would seem out of place, an elevation of the individual
above the unit. But in boxing, the individual is alone.
Evander Holyfield was a great fighter for a long time, but his
official nickname, “The Real Deal,” has always been a bit
underwhelming. For years, though, he has worn on the waistband of
his trunks a more appropriate moniker: “Warrior.” Holyfield is
beloved by boxing fans for the oldest of reasons — he fights. His
dull bouts are few and far between, and his comebacks from the
brink of extinction, both in the ring and out, are legendary.
Now, however, Holyfield faces two obstacles that even his
warrior’s heart may not be able to overcome: age and bureaucracy.
He is 42 and has only won two of his last eight fights. After
losing on November 12 to journeyman Larry Donald, Holyfield had his
boxing license revoked by the New York State Athletic Commission.
He is appealing the suspension.
“It’s the commission’s responsibility to save a boxer from
himself,” said NYSAC commission chairman Ron Stevens. “To my
practiced mind, Holyfield shouldn’t be fighting anymore.”
It is clear to even the most casual observer that whatever is
left of Holyfield’s skills is flickering like a very weak candle.
Over the course of the 10-round fight with Donald, Holyfield was
credited with landing a mere 73 punches. He won only one round on
the official scorecards.
Chairman Stevens is right that a boxing commission’s job is to
protect fighters when they can no longer protect themselves. This
is the reason for suspensions of fighters who have been knocked
out, to allow for a proper period of recuperation.
But Holyfield has not been badly hurt in his recent losses, and
the NYSAC is wrong to deprive him of his right to continue
fighting. The commission should consider stepping in if Holyfield
becomes defenseless, but up to now, Holyfield has not demonstrated
sufficient incompetence to be banished. His only sin is that he no
longer wins.
“What have I done to this game that they don’t want me in it
anymore?” Holyfield asks. It is the kind of question for which
there is no answer, unless one of the NYSAC’s bureaucrats were to
reply, “Because we know what is best for you.” But even the
commission’s doctors admit that Holyfield has come through
neurological testing just fine.
The Holyfield episode is an interesting clash between the
heightened awareness of health and safety that now permeates our
culture (for good and ill), and the libertarian value of freedom to
do what one wishes, even if it is dangerous.
IT CAN ALSO BE LINKED to a conflict described by Michael Barone as Hard America vs.
Soft America. Regarding Holyfield, Hard America says: “Let the man
fight, if that is what he chooses. Make sure we have a stretcher to
carry him out if he gets hurt.” Soft America says: “Protect him
from himself. And by the way, what kind of country allows such a
barbaric sport, anyway? What is wrong with you people?”
Let’s hope that America never becomes so Soft that boxing
disappears. The warrior ethic that inspires Holyfield to continue,
even in the face of evidence that he can no longer excel, is the
same ethic that drives other Americans to solve problems on their
own, without waiting for government; to start businesses; to form
voluntary associations; to enlist in the military and walk away
from a life of comfort. In doing so, they often labor against a
naysaying chorus of “professionals,” and prove them wrong.
Holyfield probably won’t prove them wrong. He may well join
history’s somber line of broken down ex-fighters who stay in the
game too long. Many find it a scandal that such men are served so
poorly by their profession, and indeed, no sport is more unjust in
its workings than boxing. But even if all the corruption was rooted
out, even if pension and medical benefits were provided, as I hope
they will be someday, the danger remains.
We will never be free of damaged ex-fighters, as long as we have
boxing. That is the nature of the sport. It is also the nature of
risk and freedom.
Holyfield’s defiance of the bureaucrats reflects a deep American
strain of individualism. Never the most quotable of champions, he
fittingly chose this moment to say something memorable, offering a
neat distillation of libertarian principles:
“There isn’t that much love in the world to go against a
person’s will,” he says.
You might say that’s the Real Deal.
