Friday, 17 August 2007

English Schoolboy Boxing



For many years, boxing was a very popular activity among a good many English boys. It was by no means unusual for a lad to be coached by his father, to spar with friends and to box with a fellow classmate as part of his PT curriculum. It also drew the interest of boys from all walks of life; from the streets of the East End through to the elite public schools, many English schoolboys took pride in being able to box with their peers and it was seen as part and parcel of a young lad's road to eventual manhood.

In some cases, schoolboys were likely to carry on with their boxing once they were called up for their national service and, at the age of 19, stepped into an army boxing ring with proper fighting gloves and a drill sergeant who would referee, fully expecting to see a proper contest between two grown men.

With boxing, boys learnt the importance of the Queensbury rules and the need for etiquette and fair play in the ring. These rules reflected the values of wider society and encouraged the concept of the English gentleman boxer who showed courage in the school ring or when sparring with friends, preferred to rely on his own mettle, yet who held to the notion of fair play towards his opponent.

In many respects, boxing is the English answer to the martial arts. It had its own code of conduct that was inextricably linked with this sport of self defence. Boys learnt to rely on their own mettle, to learn a disciplined approach towards their boxing technique, to have courage before a worthy opponent and to avoid foul play even when in danger of being carried away by the heat of the moment; something that can be a problem for boys when engaged in a more spirited bout.

I remember attending boxing tournaments at my brothers' school and sitting next to my mother, both us feeling immensely proud to see my brother enter the school ring with his boxing gloves on and ready to touch gloves with another equally courageous lad. In many ways it was a privilege to see two young lads upholding the very best of English boxing and learning to stand up and hold their own in the ring where they had nobody but themselves to rely on.

My mother always taught her sons that 'when a two boys enter the ring, it is of little importance who wins and who loses. What matters is that the pair of them leave that ring having learnt to be proper men'.



Monday, 23 April 2007

Brave Little Boxers

Such a sweet picture of two brave little boxers touching gloves in the ring.

Thanks to their PT master, the boys at my son's prep school were tutored in the rudiments of boxing and the Queensbury rules and I shall never forget their first contest. My son, David was paired with a lad of comparable size and both boys had their two-minute slot in the ring. Their gloves, even though designed for their 8-year old hands, were enormous and their heads did not even reach the height of the ropes!

None of this took away how brave the pair of them looked standing face to face in their boxing shorts ready to touch those enormous gloves of theirs and stand their ground like proper little men. It was a proud sight.

The boys circled each other probing one another's guards as they hopped from foot to foot, hoping to find a weakness and follow it though; grim determination on both boys' faces. Their PT master towered over them, his arms held outwards and slightly envelopping them as though somehow protecting the boys as he stooped over them and spoke to them in turn, reminding them of technique.

"Good boy, Atkins," he said softly to David, "keep your guard up, lad."

"Keep going, Chapman," he said to David's opponent, "in with the left, in with the right. Keep jabbing. keep him on his guard, Chapman."

The PT master, an ex-military man, spoke softly as a father would. His voice carried admiration for both of the boys as they continued to circle gently, probing each other's guard and seeking that split second lapse. Then, it happened. My lad managed to break through, delivering a quick volley of blows sending his opponent back towards the ropes.

"Good boy, Atkins!" the PT master's voice showed his admiration. "Keep going, Atkins, keep going!"

As the man spoke, he edged sideways, arms still envelopping the boys as he did so. As David's opponent touched the ropes, the PT master raised his right arm to signal David to stop.

Once David's opponent had regained his balance, nothing more happened. One minute remained during which both boys managed to keep their guard up and neither managed to break through. But it was no less a proud moment for it as the boys' parents watched their sons
taking a surefooted step closer to manhood.