I know it sounds strange, but I have always loved to watch boxing. Back when I was a child, it was something my family did together on Friday nights. We lived in Lumberton at the time and my Uncle Clarence and his family would come over and we’d all the watch the fights together.
Of course, all of the kids would end up playing outside, too. We’d check in with the parents every once in a while and see who was fighting and then go back outside.
I can remember watching Rocky Marciano who was the heavy weight champion at that time. The main event would usually be last so we’d make sure we were in the house to watch that one.
When we were outside, we would usually start off by having bicycle races, which consisted of laps around our house. Most of the time it was 25-lap races, but one time we got the bright idea to have a really big spectacular race which was going to be 100 laps. It didn’t take me long to decide that my short little legs would not hold out for 100 laps. I don’t think I made it much past 30 before it was time for a break.
That’s what we’d do when we got tired and thirsty. Just go in the house and get water, eat popcorn or snacks and check on the fights. We could then get back in the race if we wanted to or just drop out and do something else.
A lot of times I would end up helping my cousin Melvin find frogs. For some unknown reason, he seemed to be fascinated by those leaping, big-eyed critters. I would try my best to never touch the frogs because Mama said they would cause you to have warts. After I’d spot one, I’d yell for Melvin to come and get it and then he’d put it in a box. He liked to take two out at a time and see which one could out jump the other one. He’d eventually turn them loose so he could catch them another night and go through the same routine again. You’ve heard of catch and release with fish — well, this was catch and release, but with frogs instead.
After we were completely worn out from all that biking and frog catching, we would go inside and watch the boxing. We’d be sitting all over the floor, the sofa and any chairs that were not already occupied, all looking at that black and white box called a television.
My Uncle Clarence really got involved in boxing! He’d be sitting on the edge of his seat telling those boxers what to do and when to do it. He’s swing his arms just like he was in the ring himself.
One Friday night when we were all gathered around that television, Uncle Clarence was perched on the edge of the couch. Just as his son, Ricky, walked over towards him, Uncle Clarence helped that boxer make a stiff uppercut and he almost decked poor Ricky instead. Needless to say, Ricky didn’t want to go near his dad for the rest of that night!
Another momentous event happened at our house during the Friday night fights. You see, my mama went into labor on Friday the 13th and daddy had to carry her to the hospital. That night was when my younger brother Charles made his first appearance into the world.
My parents were not sure how I would take to a younger sibling. Since I had been the baby of the family for 6 and one half years, I was admittedly probably a little spoiled. Much to their surprise, however, I became a pretty good big sister.
I changed diapers, played cars and truck with the little guy and even tried to keep him from eating dirt (which seemed to be a completely hopeless cause). If I needed to, I also took up for him and would defend him like a bear with a cub.
A lot of years later when my brothers and our families were all together for Thanksgiving, Charles and his wife, Carol, for some unknown reason each put on a pair of boxing gloves. Charles kept playfully tapping Carol with his gloves until he finally made her really mad. She started hitting him hard so that someone had to step in as referee and break it up. She said she didn’t think she was really hurting him since she had gloves on.
That incident still comes up sometimes whenever we all get together and we need a good laugh. We all have to give Charles a hard time about the time Carol beat up on him.
Whenever I see a boxing match on TV, it always brings back memories of those days gone by. Back to 25 laps around the house on that little blue bicycle and then running into the house to watch our favorite fighter. As a child, I didn’t think about how brutal boxing was, but instead I just looked forward to the times when we would sit around together and laugh and watch fighter go against fighter and sometimes the underdog would actually win!
Azalea R. Bolton is a resident of Richmond County, member of the Story Spinners of Laurinburg, and member of The Historical Society of Richmond and Anson counties