Million Dollar Baby

While channel surfing with the remote control, my ears recorded what my eyes did not initially see. This sports fanatic stopped on the heels of a professional boxing match in progress. I noticed the excitement of the crowd and the fervor in the male announcer’s voice as two million dollar babies went at it.

“She has it all. She is the complete package.” The announcer passionately described. “A vicious right hook to the temple. Look at her go. This is some lady. ”

The description made no sense with the brutal visual images before me. I realized that the only thing missing from this sporting event was testosterone. This was not a hair pulling catfight over the high school baseball team’s right fielder’s affection. I watched a simply glovely woman boxer pummeling another broad in the corner of a ring. A left jab precipitated a body shot into the pillows of her opponent’s erogenous zone. Teeth clenched, the two pug-faced red eye combatants traded blows like rabid pit bulls fighting to the death.

I watched the bout until I could not take it any longer. As a hot-blooded man, who espouses the beauty and virtue of women, I cannot visualize anything less feminine and desirable than a woman boxer. If savagery constitutes a lady, what lousy adjectives are left to inject a tramp?