Athletic Anarchy in Anchorage,

How do we define backyard boxing? The opening page of this website offers one definition. I see it as a supervised activity practiced among friends, a sort of friendly, controlled combat. Risky, yes, but no more so than a backyard trampoline, skateboarding, or roller hockey. Is this then professional boxing? No. Toughman? No. Local club boxing? Mmmmm.

The gateway to America's last frontier, Anchorage, Alaska, offers its own version of backyard boxing on a large scale, or something that passes for it. A near capacity crowd of hundreds watches Thursday Night at the Fights at the downtown Egan Center from mid-Autumn to mid-Spring, corresponding roughly to the northernmost state's period of reduced daylight.

Photo from Thursday Night at the Fights, http://www.thursdaynightfights.com

I'm not sure if the so-called "seasonal affective disorder" from too little or too much sunlight contributes to the urge to put on 16-ounce gloves and box in a public arena sans headgear. But something other than a purse so small as to be correctly called a "gratuity" or "expenses" must motivate these walk-on club fighters.

The sun rose last Thursday somewhere between 10:15 and 10:30 a.m. and set around 4:30 p.m. The local daily and weekly papers announced that the fights would take place that evening, with the doors opening at 6:30 p.m., with the bouts starting an hour later. Tickets were $25.00 for ringside seats and $10 for general admission. A local trainer advised me to get there early for a good seat. As I stood in line to purchase a general admission ticket, a father accompanied by his young son and teen age daughter, offered to sell me their extra ringside ticket at a discount price made possible by mom’s attendance at a Little League organizing meeting that evening. The event attracts all kinds of nice, friendly people.

On many of the night's eight-bout card, many fighters, who range in age from 21 to the late 40's, exhibited little boxing skill and even less stamina as they flailed their way through three, one and one half minute rounds. The obligatory bikini-clad round-card girls circled the ring during breaks of the same length. Now, this is one of the few places that one will see such attire that time of year in Alaska. But this being a family website, you will have to check out the Budweiser round card girls at the contest’s website. A couple of the fights were actually quite good with the boxers showing novice fighter or better boxing skills.

The boxers feature an eclectic collection of ring wear ranging from old-style Everlast black-with-white-stripe trunks to bright red warm-up pants. Most participants committed all the errors that coaches spend hours teaching their amateur boxers to avoid. Dropping the hands, raising the chin, charging in looking down at the ground. And every so often one gets knocked down or trips.

Gerald Teague, of the late boxing gym in Thousand Oaks, California would describe this as "cowboy boxing" akin to fighting a windmill. Few in the crowd really took these bouts seriously, looking at the drama as something more akin to local professional wrestling than serious boxing. Yet, these bouts are not scripted. Under the law of averages, if each boxer throws a few dozen wild punches, some will land randomly, and a few will land hard. And while I would prefer they wear headgear, the boxers know the risks going in.

These weekly fights provide a diversion for a hearty people facing a long winter. They have fun attending, and the competitors seem to have fun. Its a big thing. Videotapes can be purchased and if you missed the fights, its carried on the local access cable channel that weekend.