"Dad, what are they doing?"

         I would say I was around nine years old when I first laid my eyes on a real, down and dirty, to the death, "no prisoners taken" type of boxing match. It was on a Saturday evening when I vividly remember jumping down the stairs playing the beloved "hot-lava" game making sure to land on every other step to dodge getting burned. Once I reached the last step, I heard shouting coming from the family room and background noise of what sounded like an automated voice with just an extra oomph of enthusiasm. All of a sudden I forgot why I came downstairs and proceeded to follow the noise that was bellowing from the other room. Once I reached the room, the deafening sounds did not compare to the physical movements my father and his three friends were performing.
         My father was on his feet with one hand in the air while the other pointed at the television. His jaw was completely dropped as if he wanted to say something but no words came out and the only emotion that read off of his face was rage. Meanwhile, two of his friends were on the couch bouncing up and down with each others arms around one another screaming at the boxing match in unison. Comically, my father's other friend sat relaxed on the couch with no emotion at all and continued to take long sips of his Heineken.
         I managed to slip through their physical outbursts and sat next to the seat my father was in. I was curious yet confused to what they were watching because when I looked up at the television all I could see were two men hitting each other. I didn't think of it as a sport right then and there, truthfully, I didn't think much of it at all. This drove me to ask my dad the simple question, "Dad, what are they doing?" I think I caught my father off guard because when he looked down at me all his rage disappeared and he seemed to, at first, be lost for words but then he found them and told me, "It's boxing Naomi!!! They're not necessarily "doing" anything, they're performing...performing for their fans, friends, family, and better yet themselves. You know what they're performing? Their skills and passion for this sport. How about you stay here and watch the rest of the match, this one is going to end good."And at that moment I watched the rest of the boxing match and by the end of it I felt connected, not only to my father and his friends, but to the sport itself. I fell in love with boxing right then and there and from that day up until now, I never try to miss a big boxing match because If I do I will get emotional, and not the "Oh, I'll catch it on YouTube in a week" emotional but the "My life is incomplete" emotional. That is the sad truth but, hey, at least I admit to it.
         Anyways, what I'm getting at is that I grew up with boxing and waking up to the sounds of my dad replaying fights from the night before. And I wouldn't take it back for the world because boxing has taught me the spirit of sports which has allowed me to appreciate other sports like wrestling, soccer, football, basketball, etc.