In The Name of the Father, the Son, and the Sweet Science
“You
created this monster,” former Welterweight Champion Timothy Bradley, Jr.
reminded his father, the stoic Timothy Bradley, Sr., following his near
calamitous encounter with the formidable Ruslan Provodnikov. The fight, although
entertaining for HBO and fight fans, was panned as reckless by Bradley’s
corner, not least of all the man who reared him for this most taxing of
professions, his father.By his own
admission, Bradley entered the ring versus Provodnikov with war on his mind.
Despite possessing the capability to box the powerful Russian, which he proved
during the course of the match, Bradley believed he needed to make a statement
that would silence the legions of insiders and fight fans who viewed his
victory over Manny Pacquiao as anything but legitimate; and silence them he did
or at least quiet them down. Perhaps, Bradley was on to something as nothing
exacts respect as one brought to the brink of destruction only to will oneself
back to life.
This was the monster the younger Bradley was referring to when answering the
concerns of the father whose truck he had to out run as a boy, lest he have his
“…little ass run over.” This was the monster
the Champion so effortlessly accessed, even to his own peril. This was the monster whose boyish frame and will were
transformed through severe means only champions can appreciate, into what Max
Kellerman excitingly referred to as, “…steel,” all under the watchful eye of
his father. So it should not have come as a surprise to Sr. that his charge who
he meticulously groomed for this life of pain was merely “about his father’s
business.”
The world of sport is littered with
tales of manipulative patriarchs living vicariously through their spawn,
building them up not to stand firmly on their own, but to be gifted puppets for
father’s bidding. However, there are those successful examples of fathers who
though just as demanding have clearly made men, not just champions. Prizefighting
the most exacting and unforgiving of all sports arguably yields the most
intriguing study of this partnership between father and son. The father,who births and nurtures the boy, breaks
him and rebuilds a man of war. It’s a spiritual and psychological high wire act
that puts the entire relationship at risk. One or few false moves by the father
can cripple the vulnerable boy whose sole dependence is upon him even into manhood,
making even those well honed gifts and earned successes burdensome, leaving a
wounded man-child who torments himself seeking to break free of the man who is
nothing more than a Svengali, yet, pining away for the blessing, the approval,
the validation all desire from their fathers.
Such is the trepidation of
fatherhood. Thus spake the fictional Don Vito Corleone, “women and children can
afford to be careless, but not men.” Can you observe the state of our homes and
our society as a whole and disagree? Contrary to all we’ve been told, manhood,
like the maturation of a champion requires the utmost care.Thus, the intent of every, would be builder
of champions must be of the purest stuff. Not a father frozen in the bygone
days of his own failures or unfulfilled hopes attempting to redeem himself via
his child, but a man who seeks to erect one greater than himself, the true end
of fatherhood.
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