A Sentimental Take on Boxing | Hiroyuki Ishida, Dean of the Graduate School of Health Management
2022.07.19
Amidst a continuous stream of disheartening news about COVID-19, war, the depreciation of the yen, and so on, an event recently occurred that lifted my spirits for the first time in a while. It was the moment professional boxer Naoya Inoue defeated the Filipino hero Nonito Donaire to become the unified three-belt world bantamweight champion. This topic may be of little interest to many, but I hope you will indulge me, as this is framed as a "diary."
During my student years, I was inspired by the manga "Ashita no Joe" and took up boxing. It all started because I originally enjoyed watching boxing, but looking back now, my mind may have been dominated by the perverse idea that a man who pushes himself to the limit is attractive to women. Regardless of the reason, I continued to watch every world title fight even after I stopped boxing, and from the beginning, Inoue was an outstanding presence. What makes him so incredible is that he has faced truly strong opponents and defeated every single one of them. The late Chairman Kazama of Battle Hawk Boxing Gym, where I used to train, often said, "In some world title matches, a world champion is strategically created by matchmaking against a relatively weaker champion chosen from the numerous organizations. Regardless of winning or losing, I want to focus on who they fought." In that sense, Guts Ishimatsu, who fought fierce battles against legendary fighters like Roberto Durán, is considered a top-tier boxer. Incidentally, the opponent Chairman Kazama challenged in his world title fight was WBA World Junior Lightweight Champion Samuel Serrano. Serrano was a formidable champion who defended his title 10 times. It is a fond memory for me when Kazama told me that his opponent was so strong that he realized mid-fight he couldn't win in a straight-up match and regretted not having chosen a weaker opponent.
Inoue, who is unrivaled in his weight class, is truly the "king of kings" of the bantamweight division. In addition, his declaration, "I have no intention of turning the fight into a drama; I will win overwhelmingly," and his execution of it, sets him apart from past Japanese champions with a distinct kind of greatness. Boxing itself is often treated as a symbol of being hungry, an outlaw, and anti-elite. On the other hand, it has the characteristic of containing enough sentimental elements to make a drama, such as success stories from such backgrounds, family love, weight loss, comeback KOs, and being punch-drunk. In fact, there are countless works based on boxing, such as "Ashita no Joe," "Rocky," and "A Moment of Summer" (by Kotaro Sawaki). I imagine that many boxing fans, including myself (especially from the Showa era), watched boxing with this drama in mind.
However, Inoue rejected the idea of turning the fight into a drama and achieved an overwhelming victory as planned. This strongly impressed upon us the emergence of a superstar with a style clearly different from the Japanese boxers who thrilled the Showa generation. In fact, "The Ring," America's most prestigious boxing magazine, elevated Inoue to number one in its pound-for-pound world rankings. Pound for pound is a ranking by the magazine to determine the world's best boxer regardless of weight class, and of course, this was a historic first for a Japanese person. Looking at past number ones, the list includes illustrious names like Mike Tyson and Manny Pacquiao, and surely no one in the world could have imagined that a Japanese boxer would be ranked among them. While Shohei Ohtani's two-way play in MLB is amazing, I want to emphasize that Inoue's number one ranking is an achievement of comparable magnitude.
By the way, it is unfortunate that the fight in which this great achievement was accomplished was not broadcast on terrestrial or BS channels, but was limited to a paid online stream. The reason is said to be the extraordinary fight money and the resulting surge in broadcasting rights fees. I understand the circumstances of the television networks, but it is truly sad that people of all ages and genders were unable to cheer on a Japanese person challenging for such a global achievement.
I have heard that shortly after television broadcasting began in our country, huge crowds would gather around street-corner TVs for boxing and professional wrestling broadcasts, and the nation was captivated by Fighting Harada and Rikidozan, who fought for Japan's pride. More than half a century has passed since the era of street-corner TVs, and with the diversification of values and entertainment, the passion for watching sports has clearly changed. The disappearance of primetime terrestrial broadcasts of baseball games, which were commonplace in the Showa era, is seen as a symbol of this. However, I feel that behind this was not only a change in passion but also the fact that television networks pushed for the independence and enhancement of so-called "sports news," which ultimately led to them shooting themselves in the foot. These days, it is said that Gen Z values "taimupa" (time performance: time effectiveness) over "kosupa" (cost performance), and sports news was truly a pioneer of this "taimupa." By watching sports news, people get the results with cherry-picked video edits and expert commentary, so many must have felt that this was enough and there was no need to watch the full, lengthy broadcast. It is true that many sports have long match times. I can understand the desire to know the progress and results efficiently, but the process and the nuances leading up to the result are also the true pleasures of watching sports. In boxing, for example, there are the expressions on the fighters' faces and the determination conveyed through the screen while the national anthems are playing, and the tension that begins the moment the bell for Round 1 rings with a "clang." It is a great shame that these moments are cut out by "taimupa."
If time permits, I would like the Gen Z students to watch the archival footage of the 1975 world title fight between Koichi Wajima and Jae-Doo Yuh. Wajima, who was expected to be at a significant disadvantage due to his age, won miraculously, and ecstatic fans rushed into the ring and lifted him onto their shoulders. Putting aside the issue of safety measures, this level of excitement was born precisely because they had watched all 15 three-minute rounds with bated breath.