It always surprises people when I tell them that I like boxing. One of my earliest sporting memories is going to bed on the night of the second Tyson/Bruno fight and asking my Dad first thing the next morning whether Frank had done it. People think that liking boxing means that you are a bloodthirsty thug revelling in the pain of others with the sport taking such a beating to its reputation that even the exploits of Team GB at the Olympics, and Nicola Adams in particular, are unable to restore some pride back to this sport.
What's so captivating about boxing is that, unlike most other sports, it's not just the boxer's physical attributes that are on display but also their mental toughness and psyche. Take Tyson for example, he was probably the most destructive boxer of all time but had a defence made of glass. Granted, he usually was able to keep his opponent at bay without needing his defence, but when he was on the back-foot he was laid bare. Look at the infamous Holyfield fight, when Holyfield had the upper hand Tyson blew a fuse and went for the most wantonly violent and despicable response possible. What does the act tell us? What does his shaky defence but awesome offence tell us? It's a psychologists dream. I doubt we'd glean as much insight into a person's character from a iffy backhand from Andy Murray.
But when you discuss boxing you have to talk about Muhammad Ali. Ali elevated boxing to a art form. If he wasn't outboxing his opponent by dancing around the ring, he out thought them. His confidence and ego were off the scale. Even if he didn't tell us that he was 'The Greatest', his technique would have made this obvious on its own.
Reading Norman Mailer's The Fight, you are reminded just how multi-layered the sport had become during the 1970s. In many ways boxing had begun to mirror the social fissures exposed in America during that period with the build up to the 'Rumble in the Jungle' taking on political and cultural significance. Ali with his Muslim faith and attachment to the Nation of Islam compared to George Foreman's identification with traditionalist America and the added dimension of the impact of decolonisation on Zaire. The Fight is a readable blend of sports writing and sociology which acknowledges the racial significance of the bout and can almost be read as a historical document of a seismic period of social change.
Mailer's reputation affords him incredibly close links to the camps of both boxers. The highlight of these behind-the-scenes glimpses for me was the late night jog Mailer takes with Ali which demonstrated a humbler side of his personality. What Mailer does best in the book is weave incidences such as this with the action in the ring and the psychology of the fighters and at the same placing the fight within context. It is this awareness of the fullness of boxing which makes The Fight a classic piece of sports writing.
Finally, may I recommend that you watch the fight on YouTube (http://youtu.be/55AasOJZzDE) In my opinion Ali's 'rope-a-dope' strategy encapsulates how boxing is as much about out-thinking your opponent as out-boxing them. I just hope that the modern day sport begins to reach these heights again soon.
