I?m in hot pursuit of a closeted dream of mine: Ring Announcer! Let?s just say in my former life I was privileged to emcee and host some rather extraordinary people and things and the urge to continue to do so, has yet to subside. Personally, I doubt it ever will. The way I figure it, the great Michael Buffer and the legendary Jimmy Lennon, Jr. have crafted remarkable legacies worth aspiring to, so why not?
Like all things, you have to start somewhere. I can?t rest on my pedigree. Ring announcing is a completely different kind of business and if I dare to make any noise in this arena, I?ve got to pay my dues just like everyone else. Recently, I was invited to preside over the Reyes Macho Time Boxing Club?s amateur bouts in Tampa, Florida. This would be my first foray into the squared circle as an announcer. A mix of excitement and curiosity blended within me, as I?ve grown accustomed to expect the unexpected. I wasn?t so worried as to how I might fair in this new venture, but rather if I could appreciate it at this level. What was supposed to be a card of nearly 25 bouts ended up being 8. Minor logistical matters arose, but nothing that wasn?t swiftly and effortlessly handled. It was clear the organizers, which included USA Boxing were well acquainted with the unexpected. I knew I was in my element.
Fighters and coaches situated themselves, as one would expect?reviewing paperwork, running through their check ups with the fight doctor on duty, and of course warming up and reviewing prospective fight plans. Everything was in place, including English and Spanish speaking commentators. There was the pesky inconvenience of their National Anthem singer bailing at the last minute (or maybe he/she didn?t show). It didn?t matter. I know that song like I know my name, so I stepped in and performed it.
From the second I stepped in to the ring until I exited for the final match, it was effortless. It was clear that my efforts were well received. More importantly it was a great card of fights. The officiating was precise and the combatants purported themselves gallantly and as great sportsmen. I was privileged to interview the winners of each match. Everyone was well spoken and humble, still displaying their youthful innocence though they possess such vicious ability. Judging from the talent I saw, we can officially do away with the silly notion of boxing?s demise. It has a very bright future. Better still, having observed the rapport between the respective coaches and their charges and even the bond between the fighters themselves, I think we may very well be witnessing the grooming of some standup men.
It is not lost on anyone who hasn?t been living under a rock that lately, the narrative on men, manhood, or all things masculine has been quite grim. ?Toxic Masculinity? is the newest term adopted by this sound bite obsessed culture of ours. One has to wonder though, if behind every great man there is a great woman, how is it that when he?s ?toxic? there?s no one to be found to account for him? I?ll leave that for the intellectuals to ponder.
Without a doubt, boxing would likely be thought of among the activities this new thought pantheon believes constitutes or contributes to toxic masculinity. I?m always baffled by the squeamish and uninitiated souls that cast well-articulated, but misinformed dispersions upon things they truly do not understand or even care to know. My time announcing those amateur bouts at The Reyes Macho Time Boxing Club further corroborated my belief in the combat arts or sports in general, as one of the ideal tools in the cultivation of boys to men. What I saw and enjoyed were adult coaches with a clear respect and knowledge of their charges; and in turn, how receptive those charges were. To actually hear a coach belt out instructions to his fighter, who then enacts those instructions with immediate perfection testifies, not only to well practiced craftsmanship, but that boy?s ability to adhere to well intended leadership and that coach?s ability to show himself worthy of that trust. What I saw as gym mates rallied for one another, not at the expense of their opponents, or the display of sincere of sportsmanship, were boys who are being trained to understand that a man?s power lies not merely in what he might have to beat down in defense of self or others, but more often than not, by what or who he lifts up. What I saw were boys, though defeated, learning to comb the lessons of disappointment and not lose their dignity in the process.
What our society must come to grips with is that manhood doesn?t just happen. We don?t get to surmise the whole of the masculine experience with a sound bite. Manhood, like anything else worthwhile, requires cultivation. There are so many dynamic facets that go into the make up of a man that too often go ignored or repressed, particularly that which encourages and fosters his warrior or competitive spirit. Perhaps, if we gave proper space, as opposed to condemnation or shaming, to the fine-tuning and guidance that spirit requires we wouldn?t have to bear witness to its many tragic misuses.
