Girls Love Boxing Too!

A fight aficionado puts her money where her mouthpiece is

World Series mania is spreading fast and as they say around the horn, “Chicks dig the long ball!”  But this chick really digs boxing, much to the dismay of those who aren’t as enamored as I am of two sweaty guys slugging it out on the canvas. As baseball fever takes over a nation, I’ve been hit with a bad case of “boxing fever”-and there’s no cure in sight.

It may seem a bit odd that I love boxing: Five feet tall with a voice that rivals Mickey Mouse, I’m as feminine as they come.

But this same “girly” girl who never leaves the house without lip gloss, mascara and heels on, anticipates each new issue of Ring magazine with an excitement that never wavers. When the morning paper is delivered, it’s the sports section I grab first- ignoring the pages of fashion, cooking and home decorating tips.

I can spot a good uppercut, recognize a reformed southpaw and marked on my calendar in red-right next to birthday reminders and dentist appointments-are future bouts I want to watch.

I know a Calzaghe is not an Italian dish, a Margarito is not sipped at Happy Hour, and the Klitschko Brothers are not the latest teenybopper band. In Vegas, when I hear about “The Thunder from Down Under,” I think of Kostya Tszyu first and the male dance revue second.

All I want for Christmas are two floor seats to the De La Hoya fight. Please Santa, I’ll be good!

So how did all this crazy passion for boxing begin?

As a kid, I wasn’t exactly a star athlete. Sad but true, I could never be called a tomboy. Although I took gymnastics, ice skated and was part of a hula dance troupe, no one would ever accuse me of having any mad skills whatsoever. If I was born with the Y chromosome, I doubt I’d be lacing up the gloves as a career. I know I’d like the offense; it’s the defense I worry about. There’s also a slight possibility that this flyweight would cry if she ever got whacked really, really hard. Sorry Oliver McCall, but there’s no crying in boxing!

Somehow I was drawn to boxing, even as a young girl. I recall, after seeing Rocky on the big screen, rushing home to write Sylvester Stallone a fan letter. But the first time I knew I was really hooked on the fight game was while watching the ’88 Ray Leonard-Donny LaLonde showdown on TV. After initially surprising Leonard in early rounds, Canada’s “Golden Boy” got TKO’d in the ninth and as the crowd roared, I, too, felt a rush of excitement, wishing I was there in person.

Okay, I admit I was initially drawn to the fight by the sight of hunky, blonde Lalonde with his movie star good looks. But as the fight began, born was my appreciation of the sport and I’ve been hooked (no pun intended) ever since.

Boxing’s a tough sport-that’s common knowledge. The fact that it is such a tough sport is what intrigues me, inspires me, and makes me a diehard fan. I admire a fighter’s fierce drive, determination and tenacity when going toe-to-toe against an opponent.

Luckily–for both of us-my boyfriend is also immersed in boxing as a trainer, promoter, and sculptor of boxing bronzes. Call it guilt by association, as this only adds fuel to the fire. From local amateur fights in dark, dusty halls to glamorous, glitzy main events in Vegas… fuhgedaboutit, we’re there!

Living in Los Angeles is a bonus, since L.A. is a hotbed of boxing. We’re pretty hardcore about attending matches and we don’t discriminate; we go to as many small club fights as we do the big televised fights.

Boxing slowly crept into my life until one day I noticed that all of my speed dial numbers go to my fight friends. I’m in deep. My own sister knows that I have to check all the upcoming fight schedules before making any weekend plans with her. My female friends are now used to my fight fixation, but they might still find it a little peculiar or puzzling.

My boyfriend and I recently went to a fight party at a new friend’s house. There were several other couples there and as the boxing match got underway, all the girls began to head upstairs to watch the cult classic The Princess Bride, an ’80s chick flick. As the female brigade retreated upstairs, they all looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to follow them. After a few awkward seconds, I sheepishly said I’d rather stay downstairs to see the fight with the guys. The girls looked surprised and a little disappointed but continued on, leaving me behind with the testosterone set.

I was in plasma screen heaven watching the fight-confirming that as girly as I am, I prefer to be one of the boys. Or at least an honorary member of the boys during any action in the squared circle.

I can be friends with people who don’t like boxing, just as much as I can have close relationships with people of a different race, religion, sexual preference or political affiliation. It’s just easier for all parties involved if you like boxing, since it’s such a huge part of my life.

I once got into a heated argument with a casual acquaintance, as I was forced to defend the sport of boxing and justify my enjoyment of it. She only saw the violence and nothing more, refusing to understand why I would support such a grisly sport. Suffice to say, my love of boxing remained-growing stronger-while that short-lived friendship did not.

I never, ever push boxing on anyone-you either like it or you don’t. I’m not here to recruit. But if you are my friend and you’re not a fan of boxing, there’s a good chance you will get sick of all of my boxing chatter. There are endless topics to discuss, always an upcoming bout to analyze-it never gets old.

I wouldn’t say that I’m obsessed with boxing (can you say “denial”?), nor have I ever been falsely accused of being a groupie (thank God). But I freely admit to having an intense love of boxing and a pure passion for seeing two strong warriors trade blows in the ring.

Boxing does not define my life. I have a lot of other interests. Really, I do! I make holiday crafts,
take spinning and hip hop classes, love traveling, adore animals and sometimes watch
soap operas. And I always root for my hometown teams, especially the Dodgers and the Lakers.

I’m into girly stuff too: I love shopping at Victoria’s Secret, hangin’ out at the mall just as much as the next girl, and getting pampered at the spa is a favorite pastime of mine. While my bedroom shelves may be loaded with boxing memorabilia, they’re surrounded by plenty of pink Hello Kitty toys and childhood Barbie dolls.

Still, I’d rather shell out fifty dollars for a good Pay-Per-View fight, than as a down payment for a Prada purse. Nothing delights me more than scoring tickets to a long-anticipated rematch and when I do, I feel like I won the lottery. While a fancy meal at a five-star eatery is certainly nice, chowing down a plate of cold cuts at a weigh-in is just as much of a treat.

I’m punch-drunk with excitement when I get to meet Dr. Jose Sulaiman, Kenny Weldon, Arthur Mercante, Bennie Georgino and other boxing personalities that most girls or non-boxing fans might not be able to pick out of a lineup.

To me, lifers such as cutman Chuck Bodak, promoter Don Fraser, Ringsports’ Rusty Rubin, and the “young guns” Harold Lederman (HBO), Adolfo Perez (World Boxing Hall of Fame) and Rudy Tellez (WBC) all receive “rock star” status in my book. I’m giddy hearing firsthand of boxing’s past generations from these veterans in the field.

With rapt attention, I listen as these gentlemen regale me with stories of their adventures in boxing: training camp hijinks, 15-round fights, dates with Hollywood starlets, and friendships with Joe Louis, Cassius Clay, Sugar Ray Robinson and others in a bygone era. With exception of  92-year-old Bodak, these living legends continue to work and thrive in boxing, bringing their vast knowledge and experience to the sport.

It’s no cliche to say that fighters leave it all in the ring. Boxing is dramatic; fate changes in the blink of an eye. I’ve watched many courageous comebacks with thrilling finishes. It’s never over ’til that final bell rings: I recently witnessed a Hail Mary knockout with just one second remaining in the 12th round (thank you, Shane Mosley!).

When I’m lucky enough to sit ringside, I love hearing the sounds of the fighters: the grunts, the gasps, the pops, the cracks-it’s all good to me. When I see a head snapped back by a crisp jab or a mouthpiece knocked out by a hard right, I can’t help but applaud these modern-day gladiators.

Yeah, it’s messy up close but it’s also amazing to see these trained fighters do their thing. Sitting in the front row-right in the line of fire-I’m not bothered by the “shrapnel” that comes my way. Some girls might react poorly to all the mucous and blood a good battle creates, but it doesn’t gross me out.

I’m mesmerized as I watch red welts form after solid punches connect. I don’t look away when a contender spits in the bucket, gets a deep cut tended to as satin trunks become stained with blood. I may shield myself (and the cute, new dress I’m wearing that night) from the tons of blood, sweat, saliva, and snot that splashes my way….uhhh, I lied…it is kind of gross!

But seriously folks, the sport of boxing just seems to suit me well. I love almost everything about it. Yes, I’m aware that boxing has myriad detractors and haters. Therefore, I want to officially state that I never like to see anyone get hurt in the ring, it pains me to see ex-champs mumble their words, shuffling as they walk and I stay out of any ugly politics behind the scenes of boxing.

That said, I just love boxing. Plain and simple. I love the years of discipline, heart and will that must be in the DNA of every champion. I love the camaraderie between everyone in boxing circles. I love the spirit of the fighters-from young, up-and-comers with nothing more than gritty attitudes and youthful cockiness to the crusty “one round too many” veterans, always ready with a tale to tell.

When I see grotesque “cauliflower ears” or a permanently smashed-in nose, I see honorable
hallmarks of a fighter who has paid his dues. I sometimes wish that I had been born earlier, so I could’ve been at the old golden matchups of yesteryear, instead of having to “Google” and “YouTube” them or catch on Classic Sports Network.

Thankfully, I have never received any flak from the men about about being a girl so involved in this so-called “man’s sport.” My masculine counterparts always treat me with respect, inlcuding me in their benign “trash talking” which I can proudly hold my own in or at least attempt to.

In today’s day and age, there are endless examples of women involved in boxing. And these days, women can not only vote, but hey, they can even run for President-or Vice President in this Vote ’08 campaign!

I know there are plenty of other feisty females in boxing; I am far from being the lone voice. Reminiscent of that ’70s Helen Reddy anthem, I say, “Sisters, let me hear you roar!”

We girls have to stick together. I’ve met some great women in the boxing world, all of them standouts in the sport. Besides calling them mentors, I am fortunate to call them friends. A shout out to my homegirls: Gwen Adair (referee/judge), Josie Mejia (Bell Gardens Youth Boxing Club and WBHF treasurer), Vera Thompson (Thompson Boxing Promotions) and Jackie Kallen (manager, promoter and Tommy Hearns publicist).

Don’t get me wrong, I respect women in boxing; I’m all for it. But if given the chance, and no offense to my gal pals, I’m happiest to be counted as “one of the guys”-and I think the other girls just might feel the same way I do.

So is boxing purely a man’s sport? Obviously, I would say no to this rhetorical question, as women are making plenty of strides in boxing. When it comes to watching a fight-either live or on TV-just gimme a cold beer, a great fight, and a group of cheering fans (guys OR girls) that love boxing as much as I do! It doesn’t get better than that.

Now, back to the Fall Classic…game on!

Michele “Tiny” Chong was inducted into the California Boxing Hall of Fame in June of this year for her contributions to boxing.  Her articles have appeared in various publications. A marketing manager for Steve Harpst Bronzes and a member of the Burbank Boxing Club, she lists Muhammad Ali as her favorite old-school fighter and Israel Vazquez as her favorite current fighter. An L.A. native, she hopes Manny Ramirez is still a Dodger in the ’09 season!

Copyright © 2008 Michele Chong. All rights reserved.

By Michele Chong Photos courtesy of Michele Chong