I had read little about the University of Connecticut boxing team when I arrived at the end of last August. Boxing is a very individualised sport; when you are in the ring, it’s just you. The idea of being part of a team is antithetical to this. Coming from a gritty club in rural England with a lot of seasoned faces and a reputation for competition, I did not know what to expect. It was UConn that taught me that being part of a team elevates the individual sport.
It was a daunting atmosphere on a hot September day when I walked onto the wide field of The Great Lawn and saw over 160 people competing for just 40 places on the team during the first day of trials. There were five captains across five weight classes, from heavyweight to lightweight. I knew after the first few minutes that it was time to prove myself.
Every day I came back the challenges got tougher, but my mindset became more focused and my results improved. After the final day, the captains congratulated us on making it to the end and told us if we received an email, we had a spot. Faces were flushed and t-shirts were soaked. Though that night, it became worth it as I pulled up the email that I was in.
One of the biggest lessons of boxing I have learned is that it’s as much about not getting hit as it is about hitting. Being measured and respectful is at the very heart of the sport. A clean hook in my jaw, a sucker punch to the stomach, a black eye. When you’re hit, it’s important to match the intensity.
Time and time again, the overwhelming image people have of boxing is inherently related to aggression. To hurting others, to inflicting pain, but this is not the truth. Boxing requires a lot of sensitivity and compassion. I have learned how to be strategic in responding to the expressions and visual cues of others. It’s difficult to learn how to know when to pull back and when to keep up pressure. You have to constantly sense this out through weeks and months of practice.
The first time I sparred with the team, I was staring down someone with 30 lbs on me. After the third or fourth punch, the fight or flight kicks in. It becomes about strategy, about reading the other person. I delivered a steady stream of jabs and crosses, gradually building in power. This put him on the backfoot. I like to know that when I spar, I have left everything in the ring. I was back at home.
Courage and aggression are not the same. You have to have the wherewithal to withstand the pressure of the ring. Two minutes will feel like 20 as you gasp for air, staring at the canvas. The gift the sport gives you, the discipline and the mental strength, make this worth it. It is something that boxers carry with them throughout their life.
As the late Muhammad Ali said: “You don’t have to be in a boxing ring to be a great fighter. As long as you are true to yourself, you will succeed in your fight for that in which you believe.”
Everyone finds their way to the sport on their own terms. Once you are fully immersed though, the sport becomes a part of who you are. It blends mental and physical strength; athleticism and finesse. It is not for the faint hearted, but with risk comes great reward, as I found.
Like a great many things in life, boxing is a journey. There have been many times where I question why I chose the sport; Many practices where I have suffered through torturous drills and a good number of sparring sessions where I had to find the will to keep at it. Seeing yourself improve makes it all worth it. For those who stick to the path – the space, the people, the training – it all becomes a vehicle to take you to places you never thought you could reach.