Ready for bare-knuckle boxing? Bloody yes
Are we ready for true smashmouth fisticuffs? Bloody yeah, apparently.
Some 2,000 fans packed a Cheyenne, Wyoming, arena earlier this month to watch what was billed as the first statesanctioned bare-knuckle boxing match.
By all accounts, it was a brutal affair. Blood flowed. Bodies fell. Seven of the 10 fights ended with a knockout or technical knockout; only three went beyond three rounds.
Wyoming plans more.
And why not?
The event was reminiscent of one held at the Fort McDowell Casino outside Scottsdale in August 2011. That one, too, drew thousands and was billed as the first sanctioned bare-knuckle fight since the late 19th century.
It, too, featured the poster boy of the sport, Bobby Gunn, who claims to be unbeaten in 70-plus gloveless fights (He KO'd Richard Stewart in Round 3). Gunn had been trying since to persuade a state to permit such fights, unsuccessfully. Until now.
The news may stagger some — have we evolved so little as to allow savagery to return? Others may shrug. Or observe that the timing is apt given how brutal and relentless our politics and entertainment have become.
In that regard, bare-knuckle fighting may be a lot more honest and, perhaps, a tad less dangerous. Unlike other fighting sports, kickboxing and mixed martial arts included, elbows, knees and shin kicks to the head are illegal. Fighters could use only their hands.
The contestants — in theory — must temper their force, else risk breaking their hands. Without safety equipment like boxing gloves and headgear, more caution is exercised, and less-frequent damaging force is used, the reasoning goes. (Supporters have used the rugby versus football comparison.)
These recent years have given the argument credibility.
The link between professional football and brain-degenerating CTE (Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy) – repeated head trauma that leads to depression, aggression, impaired judgment, memory loss and other cognitive and behavioral problems — blew away any notion that better technology or more padding ensures safety.
The same could be said, for a much longer time, of traditional boxing, which ironically succeeded bare-knuckle boxing as a more cultured and palatable sport.
Gunn himself broke his right hand in an April 2012 traditional boxing match against multiweight world champion James Toney for an obscure belt. Not long after, a heavyweight named Magomed Abdusalamov fighting in a title match at Madison Square Garden (and presumably wearing 10-ounce gloves — i.e. with more padding) got pummeled in his first loss in 19 fights and afterward suffered a blood clot and swelling in the brain. Doctors put him in a medical coma, during which he suffered a stroke.
A year ago, he won a $22 million judgment against the New York State Athletic Commission and others. He remains paralyzed on one side and his speech is mostly limited to mumbling.
By no means is bare-knuckle fighting a noble or even safe sport.
It is raw and vicious and, if the scores of unauthorized matches in the years leading up to the Cheyenne event are any indication, it attracts as many street brawlers as it does trained fighters. Bones do get broken, blood get spilled and concussions are suffered.
But it shows potential drawing power — both fighters to the sport (the Cheyenne participants included MMA or UFC fighters) and a strong showing at the box office. Tens of thousands watched the Cheyenne 10-fight card on pay per view. The 2011 event in Arizona reportedly drew nearly a million payfor-view subscribers, crashing the system.
(It’d be disingenuous to not acknowledge the betting that goes on, which may fuel its popularity and legitimacy. But that’s a given with just about any sport or competition.)
The question of legality has become one of sustainability, and the answer might just knock our lights out.