A Punch of Flower's - sport’s domesticated violence

Back in November I talked about consent in sport and concluded that discussion of the informal and formal acceptance of (consent to) violence might be the place to start discussions of off-field violence, specifically sexual violence.

I ranged widely over boxing and other sports and included material on Ben Flower.  This is what I said about him then.

This post is inspired by the recent case of Ben Flowers and a reminder from Christopher Matthews of the violence in Ice Hockey which reminded me of the violence of professional wrestling which Corteen and Corteen cover.  I rely on Matt Rogers for the facts and some of the law and can recommend his extensive analysis of ‘implied sporting consent’.
Flowers received a six month ban from Rugby League Football (RFL) at the hands of the its match-review panel.  It represents potentially missing 13 games and is the most severe option open to the panel.

More interestingly the question might have been should his actions have been subject to police action - perhaps, there and then.  It would seem that Greater Manchester Police propose not to disturb the RFL’s jurisdiction but are investigating threats of summary informal justice on social media against Flowers.

I want to concentrate on Flower today as is due to return to action tonight in a Super League game against Warrington according to this Guardian article by Donald McRae (@donaldmcrae).  Some of the article might be seen as placing Flowers as the victim. His tears and familial shame are related; or is the victim his team? - his early sending off may well have contributed to their defeat. But half way through McRae tells us in a single sentence paragraph:

Flower also thought of Hohaia, the real victim that night.

We learn that he messaged Hohaia but heard nothing;then we are back to his fears of jail, the twitter abuse and death threats.  Restorative Justice might have been tried here.  Especially since another article says:

“Sometimes these things happen in a game,” said Hohaia, a 31-year-old who was a World Cup winner with New Zealand in 2008, and was unable to return after being knocked out by Flower’s first punch less than two minutes into the match. “In the heat of the moment people do things they regret. I’ve done some silly things myself, so I don’t hold any regrets against Ben – he’s probably disappointed with himself.

And this should also remind us of the high rate of violence between young men off pitch.

McRae is heartened by the quick cooperation of both clubs to support both men.  I am less so.  It might be argued that commercial imperatives - and the good standing of Rugby League with fans and sponsors - might be behind this.  There is also plenty of precedent and legal backing for such sport crime to be dealt with by the justice systems of the sport.  A feminist might note too the closing of ranks amongst men.

It is this thought that puts me in mind of other violences.  That closing of ranks amongst men - including media men - raises the issue of whether there is or isn’t a link between on field and off field violence.  That cannot be decided here (or at all?) but the description of Flower’s attack on Hohaia and the gathering around of the rugby football ‘family’ also reminded me of some responses to domestic violence.

Deb Waterhouse-Watson notes the narratological work done by clubs and media to move the ‘trial’ from men accused of sexual violence onto the complainant.  But what of the case of on field, televised and spectator-witnessed violence between players?  Clearly this needs narratological work (and subsequent analysis) too.  It is downplayed. 

Domesticated?

Fight Club - a prison of masculinity?

First rule of Fight Club is broken by former Prison Officer at HMYOI Feltham in blowing the whistle about fights organised by Officers amongst inmates.

I touched on some of these issues when I reviewed Rosie Meek’s work on Sport in Prison.  This is what I said about boxing:

For every boxer who claims that without the sport he would have ended in prison (for instance Luis Collazo) we might find lists of the ten best boxers who ended up in prison.  And yet we also have Prison Fight a charity which claims world connections but seems only to be Thai-based and uses Thai boxing as rehabilitation and holds out the possibility of amnesty; but to my untutored eye it looks exploitative.

Yet boxing rates only 3 mentions in Meek's book: one to note that in her survey boxing was the favoured activity for inmates though banned at the time (p109); that it had recently been approved for use with non-violent offenders (p33) and that it was now offered in a number of establishments (p28). 

In ITV’s Bring Back Borstal the ‘boys’ play a game of Rugby Union against a local team and go on cross country runs - shades of the book and film The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner - but they do not box.  Several fights break out and a punch ball takes a hammering in Episode 3 to allow one young man to ‘let off some steam'.  In Meek’s mentions and more generally it is not clear whether boxing training - i.e. pad work, speed ball, skipping or running - is meant or more serious sparring or even a boxing match - with headguards and gumshields.  Organisations like Boxing Academy and Fight for Peace use ‘boxing training’.

So it is interesting to come across Deborah Jump’s article in the Howard League’s Early Career Network Bulletin 26 based on her PhD ethnography in a boxing gym which concludes:

… this article discusses and elaborates on existing assumptions in sporting and desistance literature, and argues that while relevant, diversionary activities and sport-based programmes that incapacitate are only one element in the theory of change. In conclusion, I have argued that boxing actually traps men in an attendant culture of respect that requires them to respond in aggressive ways to maintain an image of both masculinity and respect. This attendant culture, that is transposable between gym and street, can override the pro-social incapacitating elements that the gym can offer, and reinforces the logic and discourses that evokes and traps men in habits of responding to violence. Therefore, in terms of future policy and practice, new directions need to be sought.

I agree and believe it chimes with my work on motor projects for my PhD where masculinity was an issue too.  Whilst I drive a car - and have done for over 40 years - I’m no ‘petrolhead’ and incline to the ‘green’.  However, I sort of concluded that motor projects for joyriders - where they get to fix and race cars - made sense within a ‘car culture’.  That is not that they ‘work’ but that the logic is interesting.

So boxing for violent men also makes sense in our current culture and is a targeted ‘bait’ for desistance work for some.  Boxing has been more acceptably mainstream in the past and my only experience of it is in boxing training - and Deborah’s article is illustrated with her in boxing attire, pose and surroundings - but as a former rugby union player cannot claim to be as non-violent as I’d wish.

If I understand Deborah correctly then I believe we are both saying that crime associated with troubling and troublesome masculinities can be ameliorated by working with that masculinity but that in the longer term work on masculinity needs doing.