I’ll never forget my first live boxing match, even though I wish I could today. I’ve always been a fan of the sweet science, so seeing a full card live was very exciting… especially since the tickets were free. The undercard fights were mildly entertaining but the atmosphere was what really caught my attention. There was a distinct feeling of controlled chaos, enough to keep you on edge but not enough to put you on alert. Testosterone ruled the auditorium as groups of men, young and old, whistled and cat called not just at the ring girls and waitresses, but at the female fans unfortunate enough to pass by their section. This made me very uncomfortable. These same men cut the silence of a slow beat in the fight with their instructions to “work the jab” and ”go to the body”. As the night progressed, their message became less about playing armchair trainer and more about entertainment as they almost primaly urged these boxers to push forward and brawl, strategy be damned. This didn’t make me uncomfortable. In fact I half agreed with them because as much as I understand styles and strategy, I wanted some action. This afternoon I feel terrible about that.
In the Main Event the crowd got exactly what we wanted for 10 rounds as local boy Oscar Diaz brawled wth Delvin Rodriguez. After a few rounds it became obvious Rodriguez was besting Diaz, but that didn’t deter Oscar from forcing the issue. He patiently absorbed punch after punch to work his way inside but could only deliver minimal damage at best. You could sense he felt the pressure of fighting in front of this hometown crowd in the most important fight in his career. Diaz truly didn’t want to disappoint his fans who passionately chanted “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar” whenever it seemed like he might be in trouble. He also didn’t want the opportunity to win a title and gain a possible Top 10 world ranking pass him by. After all, he’d spent his entire career preparing for a chance to propel himself into boxing stardom. But around the 7th round, it was obvious to me that Rodriguez was in complete control and this match couldn’t go the distance. There was simply no possible we could continue to absorb that kind of punishment. It felt like everyone in attendance, even the most ardent Diaz supporters, felt the same… although it was never acknowledged. I could practically hear everyone thinking “all it takes is one good punch”. Remarkably, Diaz remained undeterred despite a rapidly swelling right eye. What struck me was his unflappable demeanor absorbing that kind of punishment. It didn’t appear any punch really affected him, despite the fact common sense dictated he was well past the point of normal human tolerance. In the 10th round his eye had swollen completely shut but he never even seemed stunned, despite some huge shots from Rodriguez. Then it happened.
After the 10th round, the ref walked over to Diaz’s corner to examine him. His corner team was feverishly working to reduce the swelling in the eye and initially blocked the ref from getting a clear path to Oscar. The ref finally nudged them out of his way to check on the hometown fighter. I couldn’t hear the exchange nor can I read lips, but Diaz’s body language clearly showed that he wanted to continue. The ref was not convinced, so he ask Diaz to stand up. With the help of his corner, Diaz stood up and looked lucid. I couldn’t help but notice his trainer was holding Oscar by the trunks, trying to steady his fighter for the escalating examination. He must’ve known the ref would eventually remove his grip to see if his fighter could continue under his own power, but he did it anyway. I’ve seen other blogs call this disgusting and shameful, but by the look on his face it seemed to me he just didn’t know what else to do. He’d spent 10 rounds doing his damndest to keep Oscar in this thing and I can’t imagine he could’ve mentally shifted gears into another mode. I certainly will never forget his trainer’s look. One of fear, concern and helplessness in equal parts.
Once the ref removed Oscar from the trainer’s grasp and stood him up alone, it appeared he was fine for a moment. Then his knees buckled and he collapsed so suddenly that it appeared he was shot. A nervous hush fell over the heavily Diaz crowd and they immediately gestured for medical attention. The rest of the evening was a blur, except for a woman that appeared to be Diaz’s wife or girlfriend. Everyone was completely silent, so it was easy to notice her rushing toward the ring and pushing her way through the crowd of people gathered in the ring to get closer to Oscar. Eventually the took him out on a stretcher through the crowd as Rodriguez led everyone in a prayer for his fallen oponnent.
As everyone silently filed out of the arena and the ambulence sped off, I walked by Diaz’s close friends and family on my way to my car. The piercing wail of Diaz’s wife/girlfriend blasted out into the night and is burned into my brain forever. It was the most guttoral, primal noise I’ve ever heard first-hand. Until that point, I’d hoped his trip to the hospital was precautionary and he’d be treated for a concussion or something. But her reaction alerted me to the fact that this was gravely serious.
I’m still processing everything today. I’m not sure how I feel about boxing . I’m not sure what to think about violent sports in general. I can’t make sense of it all. The only thing I know is that I continue to pray for Oscar Diaz and his family and I urge you to do the same.
Please close this blog ASAP.