make sense of the boxer-promoter relationship? Do other meta-narratives influence the exploitation narrative? Is it possible, for example, that the meta-narrative of Industrialization and the relationship between factory owner and factory worker might focus more prominently in the narratives of boxers who identify as white and British? If so then this would surely demonstrate how personal narratives are connected to and are certainly not free from public and meta-narratives. If not then it raises questions about how individuals make sense of experience when they have a limited number of narrative resources.
Animals
Whilst the husbandry theme addresses the notion of boxers as cattle other animalistic references can be found in boxing narratives. These
descriptions may appear as similes to define the physical attributes of a particular boxer; they may be given to and adopted by the boxer as his boxing moniker; or they may be recruited by journalists to describe the manner in which a boxer fought, the characteristics and traits that were displayed during a particular fight or over the course of a career. A review of the literature outlined above demonstrates that the animal theme is predominantly recruited into stories about professional boxers. There is no evidence to suggest the extent to which amateur boxers recruit from this theme within their narratives. Journalists, promoters, managers and trainers, when reviewing or publicizing a bout or a fighter’s attributes, are the main recruiters of animal theme. To this extent the animal theme can be linked to the commoditization of the boxing body category.
Within literature pertaining to the professional ranks significant reference is made to a number of animals, most frequently under the following groupings: 1) The mythical and generic descriptions (i.e. ‘animal’ or ‘behemoth’); 2) Livestock; 3) Game; 4) Domestic; 5) Animals of flight; 6) Ocean animals; 7) Snakes; 8) Other. Under the headings certain animals are referenced more than others. Beast is by far the single most referenced word within this theme. Horses, bulls, lions and dogs are almost equally referenced. Particular animals are referenced almost exclusively in
connection with one boxer: Carl “The Cobra” Froch; Lennox Lewis as the ‘reluctant dragon’ (Schulberg 2008: 131); John Ruiz as an ‘octopus’; and Nikolay Valuev as a ‘beast’, or “The Beast from the East”. The most generic of references, i.e., ones that are ascribed to numerous boxers are: dog, racehorse, and bull. Schulberg stands out as the most prolific recruiter of the racehorse imagery, although journalists of the weekly and monthly boxing publications recruit it on a frequent basis.
The recruitment of equestrian and canine animal imagery and
terminology can be linked to the sporting practices of horse and dog racing, as well as the blood sports of dog fighting. In this context the imagery and animal themes link to notions of capital and commoditization. The use of the themes imbues boxing bodies with particular qualities and values, in relation to the cultural meanings of boxing and the pugilistic market. The extent to which individual boxers engage with these themes is not evident from the material consulted. The literature review demonstrates that non- boxers use the themes almost exclusively in order to narrate the lives and actions of boxers. The extent to which this is exploitative is not explicitly demonstrated in the literature review. The dominance of non-boxing voices
utilizing these themes, and the seeming silence of boxers raises questions about the extent to which the animal theme is open to boxers.
Age
For boxers and for most male athletes in general the physical peak arrives around the age 25 and has passed by age 30. Though those upper limits are constantly being pushed back by advances in medical science, nutrition, and various legal and illegal drugs, we still generally see boxers deliver their greatest performances in their 20s and then tailspin in their 30s. Even though ring intelligence and maturity are on the rise in a fighter’s later years, it’s rare to find one who’s actually better at 35 than he was at 25 or 30, because by 35, his body is typically betraying him. (Raskin August 2010: 84)
According to the boys who keep the charts in insurance offices, Joe Louis’ days as heavyweight champion may be numbered - but, at 32, the Brown Bomber is still monarch of all he surveys. Old Father Time has a tricky habit of toppling even the most secure thrones, and Joe’s reign as the world’s top tough guy must end some day. (Dunphy May 1947: 31)
Raskin’s comments concerning age are not uncommon within boxing discourses. For the likes of Raskin there is an upper age limit for boxers, an age that directly corresponds with peak performance and an age that once passed brings in to question the credibility and effectiveness of a boxer’s
career; pugilistic obsolescence. Raskin sets this age of peak performance somewhere between twenty-five and thirty, effectively declaring that someone boxing past the age of thirty is in decline, seeing their career ‘tailspin’ out of control with each passing year that they box. By thirty-five, Raskin declares that the body is ‘betraying’ the boxer and thus establishes a problematic divide between body and self. Raskin establishes his prime and post-prime ages for all boxers seemingly across time and weight class. It is important to note however that the age one is considered old in boxing terms differs between weight classes and is arguably evolving (as Raskin alludes to) due to advances in medical science, training, nutrition and drugs. Anecdotal evidence obtained through fieldwork indicates that a
heavyweight boxer has ‘a few more years in him’ than boxers in the lighter weight classes. Why this is believed is uncertain and requires greater
exploration.
Reference to age within the literature review primarily relates to boxers aged 30 years old and above, whilst some attention is given to boxers in their late twenties. The focus of age related stories are on the ageing process and the impact ageing has upon one’s ability to box. Ageing is viewed as a negative yet unavoidable process that boxers struggle to come to terms with. The vast majority of age related narratives are told about boxers, rather than by boxers, yet there are examples of boxers drawing upon the theme of age within their personal narratives. Those authors who write about ageing boxers tend to: equate ageing with a
devalued and less effective material body; call on boxers to retire when the author decides the boxer is old; suggest that boxers who ignore their calls are only humiliating themselves and are loosing the ultimate fight – the
battle with themselves. The third of these three tangents clearly links to notions of legacy and a fear that a boxer who continues to fight into ‘old age’ risks ruining a successful legacy.
Budd Schulberg wrote an address in 1998 to the then 36 year old heavyweight world champion Evander Holyfield. The address came after his win against Vaughn Bean.
Evander, Evander Holyfield for God’s sake, for your sake, for all our sakes, go home. Once a role model for boxing integrity, you’re going out as a role model for boxing senility. We
remember you when. Please, please stop asking your old admirers to remember you now. (Schulberg 2005: 45)
Schulberg links age and legacy directly. He suggests that by continuing to box into his late thirties, Holyfield is forcing the boxing world to remember him when he is past his best, rather than when he was at his best.
In November 2010, at the age of 48, without a heavyweight title but still an active fighter, Holyfield gave an interview to Fighting Fit magazine discussing his ambitions as a fighter and his desire to reclaim a heavyweight title; the article is titled ‘The Never Ending Story.’ Holyfield opens the article with a reflection on an interview he gave at the age of 21 when he had just turned professional. In the original interview, Holyfield was asked when he thought he might retire. “‘I said at 28, because I thought by the time I was 28 that would be really old’” (Holyfield in Christie 2010: 76). Asked the same question by Christie at the end of the interview, Holyfield’s reply, ‘“When I can’t do it no more’” (Ibid). Holyfield goes on to suggest
that times are changing, that the human body is adapting because of improved approaches to training and greater scientific understanding. He asks that there is an end to people writing others off due to age, or deciding what they can and cannot do due to the fact that they have grown older; and concludes the article with reference to a body-mind split: ‘“Fools die young; when you’re not a fool it means you’re going to have a longer life because you learn how to live. The mind is a terrible thing to waste; if you put you’re mind to something, you will do it’” (Holyfield in Christie 2010: 79).
Holyfield’s narrative illustrates a tension between the public and personal narratives concerning age. This tension indicates that whilst there might be a relationship between narrative resources, such as those
pertaining to age, narratives can be contested and reconstructed in order to make meaning. Narrative resources then are capable of being contested or subverted in order that an individual can make sense of their
experiences. Holyfield subverts the narratives pertaining to age in order to suggest that he is still capable of winning a world title and thus is still
capable of building a better legacy. Schulberg and others use the theme of age within their narratives to suggest that Holyfield is damaging an already established legacy. This suggests the possibility that legacy can be separated from the individual insofar as an active boxer is capable of affecting his legacy whilst an inactive or retired boxer is incapable of doing so; legacy becomes fixed once one is no longer engaged in the daily physical activity of boxing. The connection between legacy and age is hinged on concepts of purpose and worth.
Like Holyfield, Robert Anasi (2005) refers to a thirty-seven year old boxer, Ray, who trains at the tenderloin gym in San Francisco, USA. Ray is not ready to hang up his gloves despite the fact that he is told by his fellow boxers that he should retire. It is pointed out to Ray that his boxing skills have deteriorated with age. He responds that he ‘“is not ready for it’” and that if he had to stop boxing he ‘“wouldn’t want to live’” (Anasi in Gattuso 2005: 100). Through Ray, Anasi indicates that retirement and life after boxing is a scary concept for boxers. To be a retired boxer is to be a boxer no more. It represents a transition which moves the individual away from the self they have been working on becoming. They move from working on ‘becoming somebody’ to something other, something that the likes of Ray and Holyfield seem uncomfortable with. For Holyfield perhaps there is the hope that he can continue to build his legacy, and that he can continue to work on becoming somebody before he has to cease being a boxer. For Ray establishing a legacy does not seem his main motivator, instead he seems motivated by fear of life after boxing, a life that he wouldn’t want to live, a live without the purpose offered through boxing. Ray, and perhaps Holyfield, are inhabited by the game they inhabit (Wacquant 1995a).
Bernard Hopkins graces the cover of the September 2011 Ring
magazine, wearing his recently won Ring magazine world light heavyweight champion belt and with his foot resting on a clock. The caption reads, ‘TIME BANDIT! B-Hop stops The Clock’ referring to the fact that at 46 Hopkins became the oldest fighter to become a world champion. The interview with Hopkins, conducted by Nigel Collins, understandably focuses on the theme of age. Alongside the theme of age, Hopkins recruits the themes of exploitation, legacy, and money to make sense of his ageing body,
the sport of boxing and his ambitions for his son. For Hopkins, age, time, the body and mind are related, but seemingly separate entities. He
confesses to Collins that he does not feel his age, feeling ten years younger. His mind acknowledges his actual age, but his body feels different ‘Your body is going to tell you something that your mind is not agreeing with. But when it’s over, it’s over. Time cannot be compromised. It normally wins’ (Hopkins in Collins 2011: 54). Hopkins engages with the narrative theme of age, accepting that there will be a point when he reaches pugilistic
obsolescence, suggesting that he will be aware of it physically before he is ready to accept it mentally. Like Holyfield, and arguably all boxers, Hopkins to is inhabited by the game he inhabits. His ontological narrative reflects the extent to which the physical activities of boxing shape and define him.
Hopkins recruits the theme of age to support the belief posted by Raskin, that age and time define when a boxer is ‘supposed’ to fight.
Referring to a contemporary and rival, 42 year-old Roy Jones Junior, who, at the time of the interview had lost his last three fights (two by way of
knockout, and a points loss to Hopkins), Hopkins states
there are two reasons why fighters fight beyond the time they are supposed to fight: One is money; two is tax problems. Also, they are in denial as to where their careers are now compared to then. I don’t know for sure, but all of the above probably apply to Roy Jones. But in the end, I believe fighters have to be saved from themselves. (Hopkins in Collins 2011: 48)
The relationship between the ageing body and the demands of the day-to-day work required to be an active boxer create a further tension.
Wacquant argues that it is the rigours of the daily bodywork in the gym that wears away at the will and the body of many boxers over time. He argues that it is this wearing which forces boxers to retire rather than their experiences within the ring. ‘No one escapes time, especially not boxers, those men who daydream of immortality’ (Wacquant in Gattuso 2005: 145). The boxer who daydreams of immortality is faced with a dilemma. In order to become ‘immortal’ by establishing a legacy, one must religiously engage with a bodily practice which over time wears the body and will down, exhausting it’s participants and reminding them in a very real and present way of their own mortality.
The seemingly opposing trajectories posed by the concept of building a legacy and the wearing out of a body are present within the narratives relating to Holyfield and Ray; as is the relationship between the two trajectories and time. These relationships are also clearly present in the writing of Raskin. Hopkins recruits the theme of legacy in a different context. Bringing together the themes of age, money, exploitation and legacy, Hopkins presents a story about generativity. Referring to his son, Hopkins states
Boxing is taxing on your body, and there’s much that goes on in the business of boxing. The athletes are not protected by the law the way basketball and football players are. […] Even if things [in boxing] change for the better, there are physical repercussions of being a boxer. I don’t see my blood, my DNA, my son, who will inherit everything that I am building now, boxing. […]
You don’t know how badly and how long I wanted to keep my father’s name alive. My legacy will be kept alive through my son[.] (Hokins in Collins 2011: 51-2)
Age, time, the physical body, legacy and generativity will be considered collectively when examining the extent to which notions of ageing are present within the personal narratives of the amateur and professional boxers who participated in this study. Hopkins’s narrative demonstrates the extent to which boxers engage with a mixture of
narrative resources and themes to present their ontological narrative. The body and legacy are central to Hopkins’s narrative. The narrative presented by Hopkins addresses notions of exploitation, implicitly and explicitly, with the relationship between the boxing body, legacy and money being used in a manner which speaks to the narrative category of the commoditization of boxing bodies. According to Hopkins, a problematic relationship with
money can, for some professional boxers, place them in grave danger fighting long after their bodies have told them to stop, and potentially tarnishing their legacies in the process.
Money
Whilst journalists and professional fighters mention money frequently in boxing discourse there is a dearth of information and reference to the matter in more established academic work. With the exception of Wacquant (1995b, 2001, 2004) little mention is given to the relationship between money and professional boxers. It is evident from Wacquant’s work, and the countless newspaper and boxing magazine
articles considered for this project, that money is an important yet overlooked theme within boxing stories, particularly in regards to the commoditization of boxing bodies and the theme of exploitation. When money is referenced in boxing stories it can be considered to be framed in one of three contexts; those contexts being prior to, during, or post the boxer’s professional career. Narratives that deal with the amounts of money made and lost during and after a boxer’s career are most predominant.
Wacquant’s studies (1995b, 2001, 2004) have addressed money and professional boxing suggesting that whilst the champions and title holders of the sport may command the lion’s share of the revenue it is the ‘rank and file’ opponents, contenders, journeymen and bums who support boxing’s economy and yet live off just the crumbs (Wacquant 1995b: 490). Schulberg describes this more succinctly when he states ‘Either you’re a multimillion-dollar baby or a bum’ (Schulberg 2008: 123). For the boxers that Wacquant (1995b) included in his study there is a realization that boxing is work before anything else. Similarly, as mentioned above, Wacquant (2001) demonstrates that professional boxers consider their bodies in terms of commercial gain, believing the body to be a commodity they rarely receive a fair return for. The boxing body is crafted and forged in order that it can be sold and valorized on the pugilistic market
(Wacquant 1995b). Different boxing bodies hold different value with white heavyweight champion bodies considered the rarest and most valued (Liebling 1990; Wacquant 2001; Oates 2006; Schulberg 2009). Absent from discussions on the value of the boxing body and the money that can be made from boxing by different types of bodies is the voice of amateur
boxers. Whilst these boxers do not earn money for their exploits in the ring they are associated with a world which places value on certain kinds of bodies; a world where the discourse addresses the amount of money that can be made through the same bodily practices they engage with.
Discussions of professional boxing frequently address the extent to which television transformed the earning potential of fighters with much skepticism being levied at the high revenue pay-per-view satellite
broadcasted bouts (Dundee 2008; Schulberg 2008). The introduction of