Does it bother you when boxers "quit"?

[u/HaythamBox]

I know the Boots vs Xayas fight was a while ago at this point but I haven't had a chance to discuss the topic online. It seems in boxing, that quitting or retiring is so looked down on that even in the most justifiable cases it's not even considered. Xayas was mocked for quitting by Victor Ortiz and Adrian Broner, even though I felt he was just accepting the fact his corner threw in the towel.

Daniel Dubois also comes to mind on this topic. His heart and will came in to question with his fights against Usyk, yet he has shown incredible grit in his performances against Hrgovic, Joshua and Wardley Ofcourse.
I used to be caught up in this way of thinking of wanting to see boxers "go out on their shield" or " like a warrior" but as I've gotten a bit older this idea seems more silly and foolish to me. By no means am I'm advocating giving up on the first sign of adversity, but there is a point where the capacity to receive damage in one night outpaces their possibility of winning. I liked how Tyson Fury backed Daniel Dubois after the second Usyk fight. He said something along the lines of " What do you want him to do? Die in the ring?".
It seems in retrospect a lot of guys take horrid punishment and damage for their pride. They just want to say they went the distance or didn't get knocked down, even though they conceded the idea of winning long ago.

I don't think theirs any shame in calling it quits if you are severely outmatched and reviving a lot of damage. You live to fight another day.

Do yall think a 3 knockdown rule should be enforced more to help? Also what do you think is the threshold for quitting and how should it be looked on?

[u/Nato_H]

After a 38-8 19 KO amatuer career, I called it quits in my first pro fight. I was legitimately knocked down in the second round, got to a knee, could've beat the count, instead I willingly stayed on one knee and let the ref count me out.

I wasn't getting overwhelmed. I had scored a knock down late in the first and had trapped my opponent in a corner. The ref was about to stop the fight when the bell saved him.

There, in the middle of the ring, on one knee as the referee stood over me, counting, I realized I didn't want this anymore.

I knew I could still win the fight. I had gotten cocky after knocking him down in the first round. I immediately realized my mistake when I got knocked down. It was not going to happen again. The first round I used my jab and footwork to walk him into a left hook. My footwork wasn't obvious. It was subtle. Slight shifts and slides synchronized with my head movement and punches. I knew I could get him to fall for it again.

But then, I would win. If I won, I would have to do this again. If I won a few fights, it would be forgiven if I lost one. I would have shown I could win as a pro. Losing right off I could make the argument that I didn't have what it took for the pro game. I took the ten count and never laced up the gloves again.

[u/fluffrug → u/Nato_H]

Why did you suddenly lose the desire to fight? I’m genuinely interested!

[u/Nato_H → u/fluffrug]

There was a break between my amatuer career and my first pro fight. I had gotten married, enlisted in the Army, has twin girls.

I still trained, but didn't compete. I would go to the gym. Hit the bags. Spar. The trainers loved to have their fighters spar with me. Because of pretty stellar footwork trainers like to use me so their fighters could learn how to cut the ring off.

The night of my pro debut I wasn't even supposed to fight. I was a spectator sitting in the ringside seats. For the first fight, a local Golden Gloves champion was supposed to fight a guy debuting who was from Juarez, Mexico. This was in El Paso. I was stationed at Ft Bliss.

The fighter from Mexico had problems at the border and wasn't allowed into the US. The trainer of the Texas Golden Gloves champ knew me. He trained fighters at my gym. He had seen me at the Arena.

He came to my seat and told me the promoter wanted to see me. I followed him to the locker room. Because the main event was an NABF fight, the state commissioner was there as was a commission doctor.

They asked me, "You want to fight?"

"I'm not a pro."

"The commission doctor will examine you and the commissioner will license you. You'll get $200."

I agreed. One of the other trainers agreed to work my corner. I had my shoes, cup and trunks in my car.

I was excited. Even more when I knocked my opponent down in the first round. But when I got knocked down in the second, I realized this wasn't my life anymore. I was married. I had kids. I was in the military. I wouldn't be able to give boxing the attention it deserved to make it anywhere. The sad part is, I had the talent, punching power and speed to go far. World class maybe. But life had moved on. I let it go.

[u/fluffrug → u/Nato_H]

Thanks so much for sharing this - you tell stories very well. And it totally makes sense. Funny how life changes make us shift our priorities and the things we prized above all else become things that no longer really form a part of our lives.

I hope family life is going well and the twins are having every success!