Boxing

I was listening to a song this morning called we win.  I had heard it before, but never really heard it.  It was the imagery that caught my attention.  It sure helps if I like the tune too.  There were six song writers.  That says to me that this is the experience of more than one.

The imagery likened life to a boxing match.  I could relate to that because I have watched a few boxing matches in my time.  I have participated in two, and lost them both, so I would prefer not to go there.

What I liked was someone's response to being down for the count.  I have seen a referee standing over a boxer, while the other boxer retreats to a corner, and the ref counts while waving one arm in an exaggerated manner.  If the boxer on the canvas fails to get up within 10 seconds, or their trainer determines that the end is nigh and throws in a towel, the match is declared over, and the winner has an arm held aloft.

Often though the boxer gets to their feet, as if they are going to go on even if it the last thing they do.  The song said “This goes out to anyone down for the count, It's not over, Don't give up, don't throw in the towel”  It then talks about us being held against the ropes (boxers do that, as it enables them to pummel their opposition.)

It then says “but hang on, there’s hope.”  I do like that.  So often I want to give up and the end is in sight.  Even if it not, the punch that floored me, may have been my opponents last best shot.  One thing is for sure though, if I give up, I’ll never know.

It is probably just a boy thing, but few things get the blood going like two boxers that have been going at it for 18 rounds staggering around having given it their all.  Generally, at the end, one is declared the winner on a points decision that had the judges split.  In some circumstances, there is no loser in my mind.  Both gave it their all.  Neither gave up.  In one sense giving up would have been the easier option.  It would have meant an end to one sort of pain, but that would have given way to another sort that would last a lifetime.

To me though, sometimes life can be like an “away” boxing match.   Hometown advantage is crucial.  It was no wonder Australia came fourth in the Sydney Olympics.  The home crowd was with them.  Mum and dad and aunty Jill were in the crowd.  Wanting to impress them lifts performance.  It does not surprise that Australian boxers want bouts to be held in Australia.

Boxing away is different.  Personally, I may be doing everything right.  I might be in front on the scoreboard, but by the crowd’s reaction it would be thought I was losing.  I may do something spectacular (I can dream) only to have it met by stony silence, or polite applause at best.

For me, it is less about the crowd’s response, then my response.  If I am a winner, I persist no matter what the consequence.  If I am a loser, I give up.  I decide that short term pain is not worth it.

I have not always made the right decisions, but I have sometimes, and found that short term pain is always worth it to achieve a long-term goal.