This involves old scores to settle and recent animosity, national achievements and fixed ideas, a feeble inferiority complex and boundless ambition. Family affairs go public here. Mysteries unravel themselves here. This is as dramatic as all the other things of life, but this drama is hypertrophied, debunked, and hyped up. A competition involves so much unnecessary and unsportsmanlike, which should remain outside the arena, that you can almost notice a rough and tightening noose of domestic and foreign prejudices, phobias, and wrong persuasions on the athletes’ necks. This noose hinders them from doing what they are supposed to do on the arena – to compete.
Sport is a game. But attempts are being made to make things too serious and stakes too high – much higher than they are supposed to be.
When an athlete passionately prays to God before the encounter, so that all cameras could catch it, and then loses, you always want to know what he will be saying to God next time.
This excessive fanning of a dramatic spirit in an event that it supposed to be quite dramatic in any case smacks of bad taste.
It smacks of pretentiousness.
The reason, of course, is that at a time when there are not so many wars sport substitutes them. Idiots, who only know about sport, as well as about war, from television are bubbling over with adrenaline.
Forget the nobility and beauty of a sport that exudes hatred or arrogance of compatriotic fans. They will not see the beauty of the game. They are sure to miss the ability to win a victory.
I was a bit sorry for Wladimir Klitschko’s rival in the latest bout. Mariusz Wach carried the invisible burden of his and other people’s excessive expectations. He put at stake everything except for knowing how to oppose the experienced, self-confident, and graceful Ukrainian who came out onto the ring to do nothing but to box.
It is on the eve of the Polish national holiday, Independence Day, which was soon marred with clashes between the police and nationalists, that the Polish boxer fetched a hypertrophied patriotism onto the ring and brought along his family: wife and small children. Coaches and psychologists had been training him for this bout for a very long time. Even a cook was brought over from Poland. They raised his stakes for this game until they assumed national importance for Poland. All the reserves were tapped.
Those who groomed Wach do not seem to like boxing very much.
They only like a successful result.
Never before had I seen our western neighbors display such a childish sensation of their own inferiority – in sport, of course.
Russia’s Aleksandr Povetkin, with a double-headed eagle on his back and the name of his beloved president on his lips, would have looked more natural in this role. But we can still see this if he finally dares to have a match against the Ukrainian and if this match is not canceled, as it has happened more than once before.
Because of these things, this encounter between the Pole and the Ukrainian was not very interesting. What also does credit to the Pole and his powerful jaw is the fact that he managed to endure all the 12 rounds and even made Wladimir miss a jab in the 5th round.
But this is too little for the bout to leave an imprint on our minds.
Yet this did not hinder Wladimir from being on top of the game. He again pleased his admirers with good and fast moves, precise jabs, and shattering right-hand hooks. He looked livelier and far more skilful than his younger and, perhaps for the first time, noticeably taller rival.
This was Wladimir’s first bout after the recent death of his beloved coach, Detroit-born Emanuel (“Manny”) Steward, and he did not let his mentor down.
Steward was a legendary coach. A godfather of Detroit boxing, he groomed so many champions. His colleagues – HBO TV network’s analysts and commentators – are saying they will always remember not only his boxing lessons, but also his advice about friendship and loyalty. He loved people not less than his sport. He was a fantastic psychologist who was able to psych up any athlete for a successful performance.
It is he who polished the Ukrainian’s unsurpassable and refined boxing dance.
It is he who taught him to show nobility and restraint in his actions and thoughts and a quiet dignity.
It is he who taught Wladimir not to drag the unnecessary baggage to the ring.
It is he who taught him to be a greater athlete not only than his rival but even than himself.
