It’s been a while since I watched much South Park, but in the first few seasons – and perhaps still – every other episode or so ended with one of the main characters saying, “I learned something today,” and holding forth on how the preceding 20 minutes of adventures had humbled them.
Contrary to popular opinion, I am not a cartoon fourth grader, but … well, I learned something today. And I was maybe a little humbled too.
The IBF convention in Chicago is a surprisingly intimate affair, collegiate and not at all as full of itself as one imagines certain sanctioning bodies’ gatherings would be. IBF President Daryl Peoples opens proceedings by asking every single person to stand up and introduce themselves, and the whole process probably takes less than five minutes. (The convention veterans offer encouraging whoops and applause to those who, like me, confess to being at their first convention. When I introduce myself and mention my affiliations, I’m pretty sure I get a whoop from Sparkle Lee, and my feet don't touch the ground for the rest of the day.)
After a brief opening session, the meeting breaks for a two-hour lunch. I could get used to this.
Following lunch, though, we’re into the heart of the meeting, in the form of a three-hour seminar on refereeing led by Steve Willis, with an assist from Tony Weeks. Now, there is plenty that a cynical journalist could say about that, particularly in the light of Weeks’ controversial recent stoppage of the Rolly Romero-Ismael Barroso fight. Plenty of people, including me, have had plenty to say about that; but it’s true also that Weeks has put in plenty of strong refereeing performances over the years – including in what I consider to be the greatest fight of all time - and Willis is one of the most popular and respected referees to have come along in recent years.
And this is where the learning and humbling come in. Willis is only a few minutes into his talk when he tells the audience that “social media is not our friend. It is our biggest enemy today. There are people out there on YouTube, Twitter, who are paid to manufacture narratives, and their favorite [targets] are referees and judges.” He searches for a word to describe some of the purveyors of social media attacks and settles on cockroaches. “They want to say that we’re all corrupt. There’s some guy with 55 percent body fat sitting on YouTube in his mother’s basement, saying ‘This referee is drunk, this referee is that.” And I feel myself wincing inside – not because I’ve ever accused an official of being inebriated (I’m not sure I’ve seen anyone seriously do that), but because my body fat is getting dangerously close to 55 percent and yes, I have called out referees and judges before. I like to think I’ve always done so with an appropriate element of nuance, but it’s hard to disagree with Willis’ assertion that the baying social media mob is an entirely different beast.
And then he says something that makes me sad.
In addition to being lauded as an excellent referee, Willis first garnered widespread attention for his enthusiastic facial expressions in the ring. He’s the referee who launched a thousand memes, which generally started as tributes but along the way presumably morphed into something else.
“The narrative with me was that I make facial expressions. So, I chose not to give them that,” he explains. Yep, Steve Willis became so burned by being meme-worthy that he has actually trained himself to be as expressionless as possible in the ring. And just like that, a small nugget of joy and enthusiasm disappears from the sport, and social media once more underlines its deserved reputation for awfulness.
And here’s the thing: yes, it is boxing media’s responsibility to hold feet to the fire, to criticize as well as praise and to offer opinions and suggest solutions to the myriad issues in boxing. But moments like this are reminders of the dictum that one should never say anything about someone on tape or in print that you wouldn’t say to the person’s face. (Well, unless that person is Jeffrey Dahmer, obviously.) And when afterward I introduce myself to Willis, and he says, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to beat up on your industry so much,” I realize that, in the eyes of too many, the boundaries between social media and real media are becoming blurred and even erased, ProBox seen in the same light as BoxingDroolzUFCRoolz.com. And that makes me sad, too.
And you know what? Refereeing is hard. I wouldn’t do it. It’s way too much responsibility. And over the subsequent three hours, Willis shows us video of what referees do wrong, much of which involves refs being in the wrong position. (Pro tip: if you’re cursing the referee because they keep getting in the camera shot, they’re doing a good job of being in the right place at the right time.) He shows us video of what referees do correctly. And we run through a bunch of clips of fights in which referees had to make spur-of-the-moment calls: was this a foul, for example, or a fair punch? Or was one boxer acting? Is this one deliberately headbutting and going out of his way to hide the fact? Almost every clip he shows results in much agitated discussion in the room and a divergence of opinion. Only on repeated viewings does a consensus emerge, a luxury that, in the moment and in the ring, is not available.
So yes, officials should be criticized when appropriate. And maybe some are past it and should be put out to pasture. But hell, maybe I am and should be, too. And maybe, just maybe, those of us in the media can do more to be introspective and acknowledge the limits of our own knowledge and experience. Sometimes, too, there is more to the story than we realize, and the modern demand for instant and strong opinion can get in the way of more measured analysis.
Like I said, I learned something today.
