Glen Sharp's Punching from the Shadows differs from many boxing-related memoirs in that it does not concern how a young man finds a path to success, either in the ring or by applying its lessons outside the ring. Instead, it chronicles a personal crucible through boxing, while discussing the specifics of the sport with rare precision. Sharp, who studied economics, sees boxing as “a case study in resource management,” and his analysis of how fighters move, punch, and defend—ranging from his own efforts to those of champions like Joe Frazier—is some of the keenest and clearest ever written. Yet thanks to Sharp's elegant and conversational style, and his ability to tell the main story in tandem with a searching examination of his own character and experiences, the scope of his book extends far beyond rings and gyms. Punching from the Shadows is “about boxing” the way Hemingway's “Big Two-Hearted River” is about fishing.
In this age of intellectually high-powered writing about sports, it's still surprising to learn how much of what athletes do depends on their minds. Every fan knows that great fighters must have “heart”—the inner strength and will to carry on—but fewer understand how a degree of concentration that resembles meditation is also required. In these respects, along with its demanding intricacies, boxing can be regarded as an art, and like other arts, it is a relentless sifter of souls. Punching from the Shadows is the story of one man's attempt to prove himself an artist in boxing, and what happened when he learned that he could not be. Campaigning in the early 1980s, Sharp logged three professional bouts before giving up—but he makes a good case that nearly everything that happened to him in the ring reflected what was already going on in his head.
Sharp's problems are twofold. First, he is at odds with his first trainer, former middleweight champion Carl “Bobo” Olson, who tries to teach him how to box out of a defensive shell. Like most fighters blessed with natural punching power, Sharp resists the defense-first approach. The second problem is that Sharp begins to realize that his passion for the sport is superficial because he is more interested in getting something from it than in giving something to it. He wins his first pro match but loses his next two. He could have continued—his peers still felt that he had ability—but his second loss convinced him to hang up the gloves.
Sharp was resolute in walking away in part because he had observed up close how a truly dedicated professional approaches his craft mentally, physically, and even spiritually. In Stockton, he becomes a sparring partner for Yaqui Lopez, a perennial contender of the 1970s who got about as close to becoming light heavyweight (175 pounds) champion as anyone can. Lopez fought for that division's title four times, losing close decisions and once by technical knockout in a heart-stopping 1980 battle against Matthew Saad Muhammad, in which he looked to be the proverbial one punch from glory. In his beautifully etched portrait of Lopez, Sharp offers a glimpse of the consummate craftsman, egoless in his willing submission to the demands of his trade.
In that submission comes, paradoxically, the opportunity for distinction. “Yaqui fought to discover and to express something about himself,” Sharp writes. “To express something that exists in all of us to some degree. …Yaqui needed to know what we are talking about here at a deeper level than the vicarious, and that is what separates him, and those like him, from the rest of us, me included. …What Yaqui really valued in boxing was the commitment to the experience, with one's commitment being a measure of the boxer's virtue.”
Following a custom of the sport, Lopez touched gloves with his sparring partners before every round, a gesture of respect and fair play, but he was unusual in also touching gloves after each round. He did this with Sharp, too—unless he sensed that Sharp wasn't giving his best effort. Then he wouldn't touch. Sharp loved boxing “despite how much work was required,” but Lopez loved it “because of the work.” From Lopez, Sharp learned that “attraction without commitment is not love; it is only desire.”
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