TUPATALK: Reflections of the ring

Since I was a kid, boxing has appealed to me as the primary warrior sport, the true test of a man’s competitive character on a stage that is completely honest, completely unforgiving.

To me, there always has been a kind of mysticism about two individuals standing toe-to-toe, delivering punches, shifting feet, ducking, stumbling, bobbing and surviving.

Man — speaking as a synonym for a human being of any age — has a physical element. It’s part of who we are as mortal entities on an imperfect mortal plane.

Boxing — the stand-up kind — celebrates the human as a physical creature more than any other sport. It is a blending of the will, the muscle, the gristle, brain, cardio, endurance, desire and hope.

Other striking sports emphasize pain, brutality, bullying and pressure points to dictate the flow of the action.

While boxing incorporates some of those things, the emphasis is on strategy, pecking away and usually patience. The torque is found in the correct combination of elements, from head to heart to fist.

Boxing’s tradition is ground deep in the American culture and soul.

It helped break barriers of prejudice, not only racial but cultural, ethnic and economic.

At a time when the idea of personal physical dominance was ganging up on some one, boxing codified a fair way for two individuals to solve a physical dispute.

I’m talking about the sport at its purest form — two individuals under the spotlight scrapping to win.

I have many boxing related memories.

Perhaps my favorite extends back to the movie “Rocky II,” still my favorite of the series.

I hadn’t seen “Rocky”, so the second movie was my first introduction to the story.

I made a date with a very lovely young lady to see “Rocky II.” The story, the spirit of the characters and the conflicts resonated with me.

Finally, they got to the fight scene at the end — as thrilling a depiction of a hard-pounding bout as has ever been on film.

I had my arm around my date’s shoulder’s during the action. At some point during the battering conflict on the screen, I noticed in my peripheral vision my date’s eyes staring at me.

I instantly realized that in the excitement of turmoil on the screen I had been pounding her on the back.

(Yes, we did go out again a few times, but no boxing movies.)

I also remember with great thrill following the 1971 fight between Joe Frazier and Muhammad Ali.

Due to the incredible popularity of the event, my only access to “live” coverage was a minute summary a radio broadcast offered after every round.

I had been all in with Frazier; his victory that night remains one of my greatest sports thrills.

Following is a brief number of my favorite boxers of all time.

JACK DEMPSEY: For pure desire and the love of the combat, I don’t know anyone ever topped Dempsey. I appreciate his iconic observation: “A champion is one who gets up when he can’t.” I listened to part of the broadcast of one of his fights against Gene Tunney and during introductions, the ring announcer named Salt Lake City as Dempsey’s hometown, which warmed the heart of a part-Utah boy.

JOE LOUIS: I heard someone say that Louis’ majesty was noticeable whenever he walked into a ring. He was the second-ever black world heavyweight winner and dominated during the years leading up to World Was II. He was a committed, talented, rugged champion.

JAMES J. BRADDOCK “Cinderella Man”: Braddock remains the epitome of how high a human being can elevate his ability and his game when he determines to do. He touched greatness perhaps only one night of his boxing career, but he scrambled and fought and clawed every night despite perhaps not being the most gifted gladiator that ever threw a punch.

JOE FRAZIER: Frazier displayed a bottomless pit of energy to attack, attack, attack and overwhelm foes. He proved against Ali he was a fine strategical brawler, as well.

GEORGE FOREMAN (The Older): I didn’t really have a lot of positive vibes toward him as a young professional. But, I housed complete respect for Foreman’s run in his late 30s and on. He didn’t just put together a publicity stunt but he came back to win a championship. He almost got Holyfield in one of the great fights of 1990s.

This article originally appeared on Bartlesville Examiner-Enterprise: TupaTalk column