The ring: A love-hate relationship

If the people loved boxing, does boxing love the people? Many would find it puzzling that the son of a once famous boxing champion hates the sport so much that he would rather play rugby.

In the Queen’s language his name translates to “Happiness” but Thabo Sekgapane makes it no secret that he cannot be happy with the status quo. The crux of the youngster’s grief lies in what he describes as his “father’s deteriorating health”.

I ask him if he is angry and he responds by saying: “I believe the sport of boxing and those who administer it could still do more to show appreciation to those who pioneered the sport to what it is today.”

Indeed, his father, the great Norman “Pangaman” Sekgapane, made history not only by his rampage in the boxing ring but by being the first ever black South African fighter to get into the ring with a white opponent, setting the ground for the much-needed multiracialism in the sport after years of segregation between black and white boxers through the racist policies of SA’s previous apartheid government.

During my earlier conversation with “Panga”, I had also noticed that he seemed to forget things quite quickly but showed exceptional recollection of his opponents including the dates and venues of each match he fought.

Since boxing is the hard-hitting and rough sport that it is, one would consider it to be a fait accompli that medical care and treatment would be one of the perks — if not the most important — included in a professional boxer’s retirement package.

When one takes into consideration that at the time when “Panga” used to bless South Africans with his fists, he only got paid R20 for 4 rounds (1969) and later R100 a round (1973).

I sought to write this piece to explain to you why a legacy that should have been a dream for an average young man became a curse Thabo somehow wishes had never visited his family.

In doing so I hope I was able to help you solve the hypothesis: “If the people loved boxing, does boxing love the people?”