If there's one name that everyone in Youngstown and the Mahoning Valley knows, it's Kelly Pavlik. He's our boy, our hero. He's achieved success in his chosen career and the locals love him.
That said, I don't understand why anyone would choose the career path he has chosen.
The Jazzman and I went to his cousin's house on Saturday night to watch the match. Pavlik was defending his World Boxing Organization and World Boxing Council middleweight champion title. The title was taken away from him at the end of the night by Sergio Martinez.
Let me restate the obvious. I don't like violence. I don't like being mean to people. I don't like movies where people get hurt. I don't like activities where people get hurt. I can't imagine hitting someone in anger or in sport.
(Yes, my parents spanked me and yes, I spanked my kids. That's how we attempted to correct perceived problems in that day and age. Is that different? Or is that not different at all?)
From the first punch that opened a gash over Pavlik's left eye, I had a hard time watching. It seemed everytime Pavlik came back to the center ring, Martinez tried to hit him hard again in the same spot. Pavlik couldn't see where to throw a punch because there was blood streaming into his eyes. I could not watch the screen. I made the time pass more quickly by watching the Twitter feed to see what people were saying about the fight. (And, yes, I am one of those people who covers her eyes at movies.)
I watch football games. Okay, I won't sit down and turn on the television to a football game, but if someone I'm with wants to watch, I'll watch. And I enjoy it. But I don't like the part where people get hurt. Hockey? Forget it. My older son loves hockey. To me, it's just an excuse to have a fight.
I don't fight. I don't even say mean things to people. So how do you explain wanting to hit people for a living?
I do feel really bad for Kelly after Saturday night's bout, and I hope his injuries heal quickly and he figures out what to do next.
But I just don't get it.
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