Tag Archives: love

02.26.12
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Notes on Muhammad Ali’s 70th Birthday

February 26, 12

I was on the treadmill at the gym last night when I just happened to catch a scene from Muhammad Ali’s 70th birthday celebration on one of the plasma screens. It was a star-studded event with everyone from Sean “P-Diddy” Combs, to Evander Holyfield in attendance. Everyone seemed to be having a great time. Everyone was jovial and lively everyone except for the birthday boy himself who was confined to a wheelchair due to pugilistic Parkinson’s.

A lot of people who claim to be boxing historians will swear that Ali is the greatest boxer of all time and I’m not here to dispute that. What I do have a problem with is people who have never set foot in a boxing ring holding Ali up on a pedestal as the type of fighter that young fighters should try to emulate.

Let’s face it Ali with all of his speed, charisma, power, and originality took way too much punishment in his career. It’s never cool for a heavyweight champion to invite 200-pound men to hit him at full strength until they themselves get tired. Muhammad Ali is a very intelligent man but that is a very poor strategy, which is evidenced by his inability to talk right now or walk on his own.

I know people loved Ali for what he did outside of the ring as much as what he accomplished within the ropes but it’s not OK for us to say that someone like Floyd Mayweather will never be as good as Ali because Floyd has a defensive style. It’s not ok for fight fans to criticize Andre Ward and Chad Dawson for their unwillingness to have their brains beat in to please a crowd that doesn’t even regard them as human beings.

As I looked at Muhammad Ali shaking in his wheelchair I saw a champion who gave all that he had to the sport that he loves so dearly. But I also saw a man who should serve as an example of what young fighters should avoid at all costs. Boxers need to keep their hands up in the ring, develop a solid defense, and once you retire then you need to stay retired. Remember that even when the crowd chants your name they do not love you, all they really want is blood.

When all the cake has been eaten, the stage has been cleared, and people take off their fancy tuxedos and elegant nightgowns to go back to everyday life the champ will still be in a wheelchair. Above everything else, I think that’s very sad.

-YB

01.07.12
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In My Mind I Love You All

January 7, 2012

I always wonder what happens to the pretty faced girls that I see and admire but don’t have the heart to talk to. On this night I saw a woman with the right lips, the right skirt, the right complexion, and the right demeanor but I saw her at the wrong time.

It’s always the wrong time when a woman appears to be so perfect. After all I am deeply attracted to flaws. Yet I still wonder if that woman is thinking about me. Did I strike her? Was she moved? Or am I nothing to her—just another man passing by; just another potential failure? And as I sit here fantasizing about a perfect future with a woman who I have never met I realize that if I had spoken to her then I would not be writing about her now.

Mystery is an awesome muse. I would like to thank all the beautiful women I never talked to for inspiring me. And I hope that this piece lasts longer than any real life relationship that we may have had. For in my mind I love you all.

-YB

10.20.11
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Chains of the Mind

 

October 20, 2011

                I’ve been thinking about barriers a lot lately. Sometimes I feel as though I put so much energy into keeping myself in the same place that if I were to just ease up slightly then I would be an overnight success. I’ve become so guarded over the years that I would imagine my heart looks something like the outside of a maximum security prison; if only I could see it.

                I could go anywhere I want to. I mean literally, I have the means to travel but I don’t. I stay here as if something else is going to happen. As if I’ll actually meet someone new while I stay in the same spot. No one has ever treated me crueler than I treat myself. I can’t blame anyone else for me being where I am right now as opposed to where I should be. I shouldn’t waste any energy hating who I can’t see. I look at myself grow older every day.

                I have salient thoughts about those few righteous women who I have known and I curse myself for not plucking them up when I had the chance. Those utterly perfect women. In the end I couldn’t handle them. At some point I found it to be too painful to reciprocate their love and so I escaped into me before I gave away all that I had. And now I still cling to those same emotions. I fear that my heart has become obdurate and my soul is all but trapped inside my flesh.

                Everyone speaks so highly of dreams yet very few are willing to suffer for long enough to taste them. I could release myself if I really wanted to. I could create dozens of flawless manuscripts if I only put in the work. The work, the work, the work…. I know that I am the only one hindering my progress. The only question is why. Why do I torment myself? Why do I hate on myself? Why do I put so much effort into keeping me down?

-YB