It was reported by Rachael Clemmons in her gossip column "The Word"(Metro New York, January 11, 2017) via the website TMZ that rappers Chris Brown and Soulja Boy dislike each other so much that they have decided to "duke it out" in a boxing ring in Dubai. "Chris Brown is being trained by Mike Tyson," writes Clemmons,"while Soulja Boy is being trained by Floyd Mayweather."
Could it be that the two rappers--described by Clemmons as"man-children" --have record sales that are so low and have a craving for attention that is so high that they need to challenge each other in the ring in order to fill up their bank accounts?
Since both rappers like to post full-frontal nude selfies of themselves on the Internet, maybe they can boost ticket sales by boxing in their birthday suits.
Showing posts with label Boxing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Boxing. Show all posts
Saturday, January 14, 2017
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
A Ringside Coming Out Story
The Final Bell
By M. S. Hunter (Alyson Publications, 191 pp., paperback)
Many men, especially if they're straight, would deny that boxing has a homoerotic appeal to them. But there's little doubt that it does. In M. S. Hunter's novel, The Final Bell, this appeal is mentioned early on. The "intense and intimate contact" of "nearly naked men" causes both spectator and participant to either sublimate or indulge these desires, much as modern dance does.
These same men would also deny the existence of gays in professional boxing. This belief would be instantly eradicated if gay boxers followed the example of Stormy Rhodes, the novel's black protagonist: break the silence.
Rhodes, a welterweight from the tough streets of Harlem, at the start of The Final Bell is deep in the closet. So deep that not only is he silent about his sexuality, he's also silent about his poetry writing. "I can't have people in my profession knowing I write poetry," he tells Carlos Quesada, a gay Puerto Rican poet and airline ticket office employee, who he meets at a poetry reading and later falls in love with. [ A welterweight boxer weighs approximately 147 pounds.]
Carlos, because he has "a conservative family and a homophobic boss at work," named, interestingly Mr. Helms, is also closeted. But not for long. When Stormy wins the welterweight championship, he announces in the ring his homosexuality and kisses Carlos on national TV, which causes Carlos to wish "he could find a hole in the floor and fall through it."
From that moment on, all hell breaks loose: Stormy's trainer quits, Carlos eventually loses his job, they receive crank phone calls, and a rift develops in the Quesada family. But Stormy is convinced that he and Carlos "can take on the world." Carlos, on the other hand, is not so sure.
In all this chaos, there is a silver lining. Stormy gets his book of poetry published and becomes a hero to the gay community. His status as the first openly gay boxer lands him the grand marshal spot in New York City's Gay Pride March. Then tragedy strikes.
The Final Bell, set in 1997, would have more punch, no pun intended, if the story had been told from either Stormy's or Carlos's point of view and if Hunter weren't afraid to show explicitly two men engaged in sexual intimacy.
Hunter reveals his tin ear for African-American speech when he has Stormy say things like, "And this must be your brother Regilio what you tol' me about." He should read John Edgar Wideman.
Another flaw in the novel is Stormy's naivete, despite his "sophistication" about poetry. Wouldn't it occur to such a public figure that if he outs himself that he would be idolized in a symbol-starved gay community? And it's strange that Carlos isn't angry or standoffish for a time after being outed by his lover without his consent.
The Final Bell's best scenes, however, take place inside the ring, where Hunter's blow-by-blow descriptions are tension-filled.
This article was originally published in the Lambda Book Report (March/April 1995).
By M. S. Hunter (Alyson Publications, 191 pp., paperback)
Many men, especially if they're straight, would deny that boxing has a homoerotic appeal to them. But there's little doubt that it does. In M. S. Hunter's novel, The Final Bell, this appeal is mentioned early on. The "intense and intimate contact" of "nearly naked men" causes both spectator and participant to either sublimate or indulge these desires, much as modern dance does.
These same men would also deny the existence of gays in professional boxing. This belief would be instantly eradicated if gay boxers followed the example of Stormy Rhodes, the novel's black protagonist: break the silence.
Rhodes, a welterweight from the tough streets of Harlem, at the start of The Final Bell is deep in the closet. So deep that not only is he silent about his sexuality, he's also silent about his poetry writing. "I can't have people in my profession knowing I write poetry," he tells Carlos Quesada, a gay Puerto Rican poet and airline ticket office employee, who he meets at a poetry reading and later falls in love with. [ A welterweight boxer weighs approximately 147 pounds.]
Carlos, because he has "a conservative family and a homophobic boss at work," named, interestingly Mr. Helms, is also closeted. But not for long. When Stormy wins the welterweight championship, he announces in the ring his homosexuality and kisses Carlos on national TV, which causes Carlos to wish "he could find a hole in the floor and fall through it."
From that moment on, all hell breaks loose: Stormy's trainer quits, Carlos eventually loses his job, they receive crank phone calls, and a rift develops in the Quesada family. But Stormy is convinced that he and Carlos "can take on the world." Carlos, on the other hand, is not so sure.
In all this chaos, there is a silver lining. Stormy gets his book of poetry published and becomes a hero to the gay community. His status as the first openly gay boxer lands him the grand marshal spot in New York City's Gay Pride March. Then tragedy strikes.
The Final Bell, set in 1997, would have more punch, no pun intended, if the story had been told from either Stormy's or Carlos's point of view and if Hunter weren't afraid to show explicitly two men engaged in sexual intimacy.
Hunter reveals his tin ear for African-American speech when he has Stormy say things like, "And this must be your brother Regilio what you tol' me about." He should read John Edgar Wideman.
Another flaw in the novel is Stormy's naivete, despite his "sophistication" about poetry. Wouldn't it occur to such a public figure that if he outs himself that he would be idolized in a symbol-starved gay community? And it's strange that Carlos isn't angry or standoffish for a time after being outed by his lover without his consent.
The Final Bell's best scenes, however, take place inside the ring, where Hunter's blow-by-blow descriptions are tension-filled.
This article was originally published in the Lambda Book Report (March/April 1995).
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Boxing: Artistry Or Savagery?
Letters
Village Voice
842 Broadway
New York, NY 10003
November 26, 1982
Dear Editor:
The corruption that Jack Newfield writes about in his piece on boxing ("The Men Who Are Killing a Noble Sport," November 30 [1982]) is not the only disturbing thing about this so-called "sport." It's also the gladiator mentality that keeps it in existence. I have long advocated for the abolition of boxing and the recent death of the Korean lightweight Duk-Koo Kim underscores that belief. When I heard on the radio that Kim had suffered irreparable brain damage and that he was close to death, it brought to mind Willie Classen who died under similar circumstances about three years ago.To Newfield I ask: Must more lives be lost? Must more families be left behind to grieve before a decision is made to put boxing--which Newfield calls a "noble sport" and I call legalized savagery--to rest?
What baffles me is how Newfield can justify boxing by calling it "artistry." Where is the artistry in two men knocking each other's brains out? Can't Newfield see that boxing is brutal and that it caters not only to the greed of those who promote it but also to the blood lust of those who watch it? Can't he see the hypocrisy of those who decry violence in the street but glorify it in the ring?
I hope ghetto kids who aspire to boxing careers will instead aspire to something far better and far nobler than fame, fortune, and possible brain damage and death in the ring. There are other options, Mr. Newfield, than the gym.
Sincerely yours,
Charles Michael Smith
This letter was sent to the Village Voice but was not published.
Village Voice
842 Broadway
New York, NY 10003
November 26, 1982
Dear Editor:
The corruption that Jack Newfield writes about in his piece on boxing ("The Men Who Are Killing a Noble Sport," November 30 [1982]) is not the only disturbing thing about this so-called "sport." It's also the gladiator mentality that keeps it in existence. I have long advocated for the abolition of boxing and the recent death of the Korean lightweight Duk-Koo Kim underscores that belief. When I heard on the radio that Kim had suffered irreparable brain damage and that he was close to death, it brought to mind Willie Classen who died under similar circumstances about three years ago.To Newfield I ask: Must more lives be lost? Must more families be left behind to grieve before a decision is made to put boxing--which Newfield calls a "noble sport" and I call legalized savagery--to rest?
What baffles me is how Newfield can justify boxing by calling it "artistry." Where is the artistry in two men knocking each other's brains out? Can't Newfield see that boxing is brutal and that it caters not only to the greed of those who promote it but also to the blood lust of those who watch it? Can't he see the hypocrisy of those who decry violence in the street but glorify it in the ring?
I hope ghetto kids who aspire to boxing careers will instead aspire to something far better and far nobler than fame, fortune, and possible brain damage and death in the ring. There are other options, Mr. Newfield, than the gym.
Sincerely yours,
Charles Michael Smith
This letter was sent to the Village Voice but was not published.
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