
The crying gameThe 2000 U.S. Olympic boxing trials offered the author a moment of poignancy amid the pugilismPosted: Tuesday July 17, 2007 10:48AM; Updated: Tuesday July 17, 2007 10:48AM
Editor's note: We asked SI.com writers to share their memories from the best game they've ever seen. Here are their stories: Somewhat at odds with the concept of purity and amateurism, the 2000 Olympic boxing trials -- the so-called Box-offs -- were held at, of all places, Foxwoods Casino in Connecticut. In the course of covering the event for Sports Illustrated, I stumbled across a back staircase that led from the ring to the makeshift locker rooms. I discovered that this secret passage spared me from dealing with a neckless, self-important security guard. The heavyweight fight was competitive and entertaining; a heavily-muscled kid showing superior skills and hand-speed won a decision. Sneaking down the steps after the elimination fight, I got a spike of adrenaline when I heard a shrieking, keening cry. I looked over the rail to see the losing heavyweight -- his name eludes me, which is ultimately the point -- crying inconsolably. Check that. Not crying. Sobbing, his entire chiseled body heaving up and down. Still leaking blood and sweat, he was curled in a ball, mourning a dream that had just been administered its last rites. The other guy would be going to Sydney. The scene -- a brute of a man, all by himself in a dingy back stairwell of a casino ampitheater, reduced to a blubbering baby -- was almost unendurably poignant. We write about winners, put them on television, lavish them with money and fame and even put their faces on our cereal boxes. But here was a haunting reminder that as much as we all love winners, competition necessarily creates losers, too. To read all of the Best Game entries, click here.
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