I find bare-knuckle boxing deeply disturbing. Watching two fighters trade blows without gloves, protection, or real defense feels savage and outdated. They can’t parry, block, or catch punches effectively, leaving their hands and faces shredded by the end.
Professional boxing carries its own dangers, often involving longer bouts and more sustained damage. Yet boxers there defend themselves with skill and strategy—qualities stripped away in bare-knuckle contests. Imagine a technician like Shakur Stevenson fighting bare-knuckle, his hands breaking mid-fight, unable to block or counter. Without protection, skill gives way to senseless violence, erasing everything that makes boxing the “sweet science.”
Why Gloves and Wraps Matter
Boxers rely on careful hand wrapping before every match. Officials and opposing representatives must inspect and approve the process because even small mistakes cause lasting hand injuries. Both teams must also agree on glove types. Gloves exist to absorb impact, not to weaken fights, which makes bare-knuckle rules—exposing knuckles while wrapping the rest of the hand—completely illogical.
During sparring, professionals wear heavier gloves and headgear to protect their hands and heads. The extra padding slows punches and allows fighters to refine technique instead of relying on brute force. Over a century ago, boxing outlawed bare-knuckle fights to civilize the sport. I can’t comprehend why modern athletic commissions allow a return to such brutality. I would refuse to work as a cutman for anyone entering a bare-knuckle fight.
Learning from the Past, Not Repeating It
When “Sugar” Ray Leonard suffered a detached retina, boxing adapted by redesigning gloves to prevent thumb injuries. The sport evolved to safeguard its athletes. But bare-knuckle fighting moves backward, undoing decades of progress.
James DeGale’s return from retirement for a bare-knuckle bout shocked me. I admired his Olympic gold, his professionalism, and his championship career. Seeing him fight unprotected made me ask only one thing: why? The same question arose when Paulie Malignaggi—another respected champion and commentator—did the same. Both men had already proven themselves; their choices puzzled and saddened me.
Proposed changes to the Muhammad Ali Act trouble me just as much. The Act aimed to protect fighters from exploitation. It wasn’t perfect, but its purpose mattered. Weakening it endangers fighters further, making bare-knuckle bouts seem like desperate options.
If reforms erode protections for boxers, more may risk their health for bare-knuckle fights. That thought disgusts me. Boxing should stand for discipline, not destruction.
