I believe that all boxers have a bond that is formed in part through the common experiences that they have been through at one point or another.

Whether we are a four-round prelim kid from Tokyo, a 10-round journeyman from Sydney or a three-time world champion from Detroit, I believe that we have all come up in the game experiencing the same things.

We feel the same pains when we take a punch and the same exhilaration when we land one. We know the same type of people who hang around the gyms. We meet managers, trainers, promoters, and fellow fighters who all seem to share very similar traits and mannerisms.

I'm from Connecticut but I can tell a boxer from San Diego about the former boxer at my gym who still carries a mouth piece in his glove compartment just in case someone ever wants to use him for sparring and he'll immediately know his counterpart from out West.

I give these “You might be a fighter if…” anecdotes (I have over two hundred of them) to you all with one thing in mind. I believe that you might be a fighter (or someone involved in the fight game) if... you read these examples and at least seventy-five percent of them make you involuntarily laugh or smile because you recognize them immediately from first hand experience. Like this one that most boxers will know instantly:

1. You might be a fighter if... you have had to answer the following questions at least once in your life:
A) “Isn't it true that when you turn pro you have to have your hands registered as lethal weapons?”
B) “Is it true that when you become a pro fighter you have to have an operation to take the bone (or cartilage) out of your nose?”
(The answer to both questions is NO)
2. You might be a fighter if... you feel that running (roadwork) is the cure for everything. You are trying to make weight but you slipped up and ate some pizza? You go out and do extra roadwork. You succumbed to a girlfriend's every wish and demand? You go out and run. Had a bad day at the gym, felt tired and wondered if you were out of shape? Extra roadwork is your solution.

3. You might be a fighter if... you are sharing a dressing room on a pro card with a couple other fighters and one of the guys in the room who is about to go out and fight is wearing basketball sneakers (and sometimes he will even have swimming trunks on, too) and once you see those Jordans on him you know that once he heads out for his fight... he most likely won't be gone for very long.

4. You also might be a fighter if... you know from first-hand experience that just because some guy comes in the gym with a tough looking face and muscles bulging out it doesn't necessarily mean anything more than he has a tough looking face and muscles bulging out. It certainly doesn't always mean he can fight.

5. You might be an amateur boxer if... you know that feeling of being at a national tournament and winning your bout late on a Tuesday night only to have to spend the rest of the night trying to figure out how much food you can eat afterwards and still make weight at 7 a.m. the next morning.

6. You might be a fighter if... you weren't sure if you were going to make weight for a fight so you stepped on the scale at the weigh-in really lightly, like you were stepping on broken glass, hoping that somehow this method would cause the scale to not register every pound of your body.

(Former elite American amateur Kevin Bryant out of The Bronx read that one and emailed me back with this: “What about those guys who take really deep breaths when stepping on the scale... as if it really makes a difference?”)

7. You might be a professional fighter if... you know all too well that pre-fight weigh-ins are way too long, and unnecessarily so. You also know that if a former professional fighter was in charge of those proceedings and had the power to do so he would make it so that the boxers would weigh in first, as soon as they arrived.

(The way it is now you are forced to sit there doing absolutely nothing while six more than are needed commission members spend a good 45 minutes preparing everything. They then have all the fighters fill out their applications and pay their fees before anyone of them can even think about setting foot on the scale. Now why these people do not just let every fighter step on the scale as soon as they arrive is beyond me. If I have to guess I will have to assume it is because the majority of these guys have never had to sit there on edge because they had been struggling with their weight for the previous few days and weren't entirely sure they were even going to make it once they did finally get the chance to step on that scale. One of the most frustrating, irritating, periods before a fight is the one where you just sit at the weigh in watching all these guys not let you step on the scale and, in fact, weigh in. They tell you to be there at 5 p.m. and you get there on time only to sit around waiting for them to get everything organized. Everybody is hustling around, trying to look busy. All the fighters are there. The trainers are there. The commission is there. The scale is there. So why can't we get on the scale first and then do the paperwork afterwards??? It seems like that strategy makes sense to everybody but the people in charge. Because instead of doing that they will make you sit and wait for way too long until they get all your paperwork done – and all your fees are paid – before you can get on the scale.)

8. You might be a fighter if... you've ever peed blood.

(Flashback: November 1992, Las Vegas, I had just lost a 12-round decision to Tim Littles for the USBA 168-pound championship on the undercard of the first Holyfield-Bowe fight. I had experienced an extremely tough time making weight for that fight and, as a result, I dehydrated myself pretty badly beforehand. Apparently, as I have been told by those in the know, taking body – liver and kidneys – punches from a man who is wearing 10-ounce gloves after you have spent several weeks depriving yourself of food and fluids is not the healthiest thing to do. After the fight I went to use the bathroom and was surprised to see blood streaming out into the toilet. Not one to panic, I instantly remember Ali speaking about urinating blood after the steady stream of body punches he had taken from Frazier in Manila and I instantly found comfort in the idea that if Ali could get through the body shots of Smokin' Joe without permanent damage to his kidneys and liver
then I would be OK, too.)

9. Speaking of Ali, you might be a fighter from the ‘70s or early ‘80s (like me) if… you chose to wear a white terry cloth robe to the ring because that was the style “The Greatest” almost always chose to come in with.

(And if you never tried to do the “Ali Shuffle” in an actual fight you almost certainly attempted it at least once either in sparring or, at the very least, at your house in front of a full length mirror.)

10. You might be a fighter if you... sometimes you just don't want to touch gloves with your opponent before a fight!

(I think it's kind of pointless for boxing commissions, referees or whoever it may be, to force fighters to touch gloves before a fight if they don't want to. Many referees will actually delay the start of a fight until both guys at least make contact with each others’ gloves. They call them back to the center of the ring and tell them the first bell will not ring until they touch gloves. Why? For what? As a show of good sportsmanship or respect? Well, what if I don't feel sportsman like in the moments before I am going to try and debilitate this man? What if I am not happy with the fact that he is about to do the same to me and, as a result, I just don't want to show him any respect, either? Who are you to make me touch gloves!? Some boxers use their lack of respect for their opponent as a motivating tool and forcing them to touch gloves when they are in that mode is pointless. As long as he doesn't rabbit punch, throw low blows or bite his opponent then all is OK in my book. Part of fighting is a man's preparation and shaking hands with his opponent usually isn't something that he wants to do when he is busy trying to build up the nerve and the desire to cause that same man harm. You want us to shake hands after the fight? Fine. But before I am about to put my life on the line for your enjoyment don't make more out of me not wanting to show a false exhibition of sportsmanship than is necessary. I also don't think professional boxers should be brought to the center of the ring after they fight so that they referee can, or cannot, raise one of their hands in the air to let everybody know who won the fight. The audience can hear just fine, thanks, and they can see, too. You don't have to put the loser of the fight on display for all to see. He'll feel bad enough about losing without every pair of eyes in the building trained on him as he gets the news.

Another thing while I am at it. I don't think a referee should have the power to stop a professional fighter from talking to his opponent during the heat of battle. A lot of referees will even threaten to take points away from a fighter if he talks trash to his opponent during clinches and I think that is way, way out of line, as well. As long as the guy doesn't get vulgar and out of control then just leave him alone. This isn't tennis, cross country or bowling, you know? These guys are fighting for their lives in there, emotions are running sky high, and they often use talking to motivate themselves. Having some guy who doesn't know what you are feeling in there trying to stop you from letting out that emotion is wrong in my opinion.