I’ve been a fan of boxing for a long time. There was a time when my interest in MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) eclipsed it, but I quickly came back to the sport. In the 1990’s I held a professional license (UK) for a couple of years (something I gave up because the pay was practically non-existent and the training conflicted with my Judo, which was my real passion/love) and had six professional fights (won four, drew two) – how that all happened is a long and unimportant story e.g., you meet certain people at a particular time, when you have a certain athletic ability etc. It’s also worth noting that holding a “license” doesn’t necessarily mean that you were that good – I wasn’t. The main point/takeaway from this is that I have always had an interest in the sport, however as someone participating in it there were elements I didn’t like. I never appreciated “trading blows” i.e., putting yourself in a position to land a punch, that meant you were going to have to take a punch. Not fun in my book, but a necessary part of the sport/game.

The point of all of this is to say, I’ve watched – and continue to do so – a lot of boxing. I grew up in the UK in the 1980’s, when boxing on TV was a regular event. It was also a time when there were a lot of good UK and Irish fighters, an era when there were still a lot of the old school, outdoor arena fights, such as the 1986 fight between Barry Mcuigan and Steve Cruz (one of the last 15-round fights, after the death of South Korean boxer Kim Duk-koo who died after a fight with Ray Mancini in November 1982, when/where it was discovered that brain injury was more susceptible in the later rounds). It is the “later” rounds and how professional fighters fight in them which is the subject of this article, as it provides us information and knowledge that is applicable to reality-based self-defense.

In the opening minutes of a boxing match there is discipline. Both fighters throw tight, straight punches that are clinical and disciplined. It doesn’t matter if they are testing their opponent out or looking for a quick win. At this point in the game, they are “fresh” and able to exert and demonstrate their skills. As the rounds progress this discipline starts to diminish, especially for those in heavier weight classes who have a lot of body mass to keep moving; there’s a reason why most soldiers involved in special operations/duties more likely resemble tri-athletes rather than body builders etc. Also, as a fight progresses, there often comes a sense of desperation or frustration, as a fighter starts to understand that they may not have won the rounds needed to win on points, they may get desperate to seek a knockout.

Whilst we often think of Muhammad Ali as a knockout specialist/seeker he was also a tactician who understood that you needed to win each round because it wasn’t always possible to get/create a knockout e.g., in a talk-show appearance with Joe Frazier before their upcoming fight, Frazier says Ali might be able to evade him for six rounds, to which Ali responds that by that point he’ll already be ahead on points. As the rounds progress the mental pressure to seek something conclusive can become overwhelming. One of the things that my Judo coach, Jimmy Oliver, instilled in me was a sense of patience not desperation; don’t rush, but rather wait, because with time that will cause the other person to rush in, and make a mistake. In Judo “rushing in” is perhaps the greatest mistake to make. This is something I see in Judo and BJJ competition a lot when it comes to groundwork/fighting e.g., a person gets a dominant position and feels under pressure to do something from it, and instead of waiting for an opportunity to exploit (a mistake the other person makes), feels the urge to create one that is sub-optimal/ineffective. One of the things we don’t want to do in a real life alteration is put ourselves in a position where we feel the need/pressure to react, when it might not be necessary if we set everything up to not have to do so e.g., putting distance between us and an aggressor, controlling range, putting ourselves in a position that makes us inaccessible (putting a barrier, such as a car or table in between ourselves and our attacker, etc.).      

If we want to take lessons from boxing that are applicable to reality-based self-defense and Krav Maga, one that stands out is that the first three minutes of a “street fight” more closely resemble the last three minutes of a professional fight, than at the start of it. When you look at the last few rounds of a boxing match, where both fighters/combatants have given it their all, and are physically exhausted, you see the discipline start to disappear. Instead of throwing technically accurate and specific punches, fighters – despite their training – start to throw wild, circular punches hoping to land the punch that has eluded them the entire fight. Trained athletes often become desperate, untrained fighters in these moments, hoping that something will land and be decisive. In an unplanned street fight this is what both combatants are usually hoping for; the big, overly-committed punch/strike that ends the fight in that moment. In many cases this is an alcohol-fueled strike, where the person making it is hoping for a one-and-done success i.e., they aren’t signing up for a twelve or fifteen round fight. In reality most of a person’s survival depends on dealing with this. It’s not about dealing with rounds, it’s about dealing with the last one first.