The most beautiful brutality I have ever seen has taken place inside a boxing ring.
I'm not embarrassed to admit that I've been put to sleep in the past, and by the very same token, I've brought others to their knees. I'm neither proud or ashamed of it. I admire the courage and grit of the pugilist and I can watch or partake in a match with reverence and humility, but as to why people rejoice in the suffering of another human being is beyond me... It is true that in the heat of the moment one can become numb or unperturbed to pain inflicted upon others, but still there is nothing noble in being
superior to your opponent. At one time, in my search of something higher, I thought boxing could help me in some twisted way. For a very long time, I've associated boxing to the realm of redemption or second chances and with defeating opponents to prove ones worth-- a reason for why I've felt strangely attracted to it. But I was mistaken.
First, true nobility lies only in being superior
to your former self, and secondly, you can't redeem your past inside a boxing ring. Besides, it must look ridiculous to have a doctor counsel you on healthy lifestyle habits with subconjunctival hemorrhages and cuts above his eyebrow.