How the Brutal Sport of Boxing Saves Many Black Lives

It will always be a brutal sport, but the answer isn’t a ban

Miguel Machado
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Jake Paul throws a punch against Nate Robinson during Mike Tyson vs. Roy Jones Jr. presented by Triller at the Staples Center on November 28, 2020, in Los Angeles, California. Photo: Joe Scarnici/Getty Images for Triller

I love boxing. I love its louder moments, two fighters matching wills and trading shots as lights shine and the crowd roars. I love the quieter ones, too: the sensation of wrapping my hands, the slightest nod of acknowledgment in the locker room after a hard session.

But maybe the thing I love most about the sport is the sound punches make — the hollow crack of a hook echoing through an empty gym, the thudding impact of a fist meeting soft flesh and ribs. It’s a unique kind of thunder, and in the emptiness of pandemic-era arenas, the sound is more pronounced than ever.

That was the case a few weeks ago during the card for the Mike Tyson vs. Roy Jones Jr. exhibition. The fights were unexpectedly competitive and hard-hitting. Although entertaining, they served as a reminder of why the fight game is often referred to as “the hurt business.”

In the undercard’s penultimate fight, former champion Badou Jack brutalized 13-fight rookie Blake McKernan with hard shots to the body and head. By the time the battle ended, McKernan’s face was a swollen mass of tender meat, a fist-sized hematoma sprouting from around his orbital bone. He showed tremendous heart in going the distance with a…

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