Love what you do, and do what you love

Thursday, June 25, 2009 -- 6:30 p.m.

Why do I do it? Why do I choose to make a living being a professional boxer? A question I have been asked repeatedly over and over by so many people, including the athletic commissioner of the Pennsylvania State Athletic Commission — Gregory “Mighty Man” Sirb. (Read more about him below in my March 20 blog.)

Some might classify my decision to be a professional boxer as dumb, or risky, or even downright silly. But what most people don’t realize is that I wake up every day loving what I do. How many people in this world are living a life or doing a job they absolutely hate? Well, I was fortunate enough to find a career that I absolutely love. I love going to the gym smelling the courage and desire that floats in the air of a true boxing gym. Boxing is not for the faint of heart. It is not for the weary or undetermined minds.

I get bumps and bruises. My pride gets tested everyday. I stand in the mirror every single day and ask myself, "Am I doing what I love?" My answer is a simple "Oh yes." Even the days when my face may be a little swollen, or I have two black eyes, or stitches hanging out of my left eyelid, my answer is still "Oh yes."

With that being said, I am currently sitting on a very poor sub-.500 record after my last loss to 6-foot-3 Willie Nelson on June 13.  I want to first say that I think my boxing career is one huge drama, full of low blows, illegal punches and ridiculous outcomes. I think I am cursed and may now consider myself a drama queen. It seems like I have a story to tell after almost every fight. I am completely honest and have Wikipedia to back up my stories in almost every instance.

But, this was another fight that I was forced to get up off the canvas after an “unintentional low blow.” It took me a full 4 minutes to recover. I could have chosen to quit the fight right then and there — and maybe I should have, because I could barely stand, let alone fight — but I chose to fight on like a true fighter does. My corner realized that I was not fully recovered from the illegal punch to the “groin” and my father/head trainer chose to call the fight off to protect me from further and unnecessary punishment. I suffered an accidental head butt in Round One, plus two other punches that were below the belt, but fought through it.

 Meanwhile, this kid was 6-foot-3 and he hit me below the belt. How in the world is that unintentional? Either way he got the victory and I was sent home with a swollen left cheek bone from the clash of heads and swollen something else down south. 

After a week vacation in Miami, Florida with one of my good friends and younger brother, I am feeling very refreshed and ready for my next match. For once, I won't have to travel across the country to fight some undefeated prospect. Instead I'll fight in front of all my friends and family in my hometown July 17. I haven't fought in my home town for exactly one year. It will be a very exciting homecoming. All my friends and family will be in for a treat, as I am planning a very explosive coming-out party. I have been without a win for too damn long.

Love what you do, and do what you love. Also, RIP Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett.