The tux rule

Why do boxing announcers wear tuxedos?

This might seem like a trivial question, but those are kind that often get lodged in the brain like some kind of psychic splinter. I mean, here’s a sport in which two lumps of meat are encouraged to beat each other about the face, and the ringside announcers are dressed like they’re about to serve champagne at the White House correspondent’s dinner.

This isn’t a phenomenon you see in any other sports coverage. Bob Uecker, who Johnny Carson once dubbed “Mr. Baseball,” doesn’t wear a tux when he’s sitting in the booth calling Milwaukee Brewers games. Hell, even the so-called “classy” sports events, like Wimbledon and the Olympics, are business causal, occasionally warranting the kind of garish blazers worn by 1970s cocaine enthusiasts.

Yet boxing, which paved the way for such culturally enriching fare as the Ultimate Fighting Championships, somehow warrants a plethora of penguin suits. Vexing, to say the least.

It’s a silly thing to get fixated on, I’ll admit that. But fortunately, modern society has been gifted with a tool perfectly suited to handle such pointless and banal curiosities.

To the Internet!

An exhaustive search – and by “exhaustive,” I mean I typed a query into Google – doesn’t turn up much, unfortunately, leaving us with a lot of speculation and conjecture. On Yahoo! Answers, a guy with the screen name “Austin B” takes a stab at it, saying, “I think that boxing events used to be pretty formal events and they wore suits because that was the appropriate attire and it has just carried over to today.”

Touche, Austin B. A sensible argument. When you think about it, most major boxing events take place at fancy hotels or casinos, where even the blackjack dealers look like they could totally take your daughter to the prom. But that doesn’t erase the fact that all this pageantry is centered around a sport that would be illegal if the combatants were roosters. Wearing a tux to call fights is like wearing a ballroom dress to host “Survivor.”

Unsatisfied, I mined the ‘net for a deeper truth. By which I mean I clicked on the next search result.

That led me to a short commentary piece by professional ring announcer Mike Markham, who gigs at both traditional boxing and mixed martial arts events. Markham prefers tuxes for both sports, and claims to own several, as well as a pair of spats, because, he said, “you just never know.”

Right.

Again, Markham points to the “traditional” nature of boxing as a reason to wear a tux, and adds that formal wear “sets the tone,” saying, “(It) lets everyone know you are serious about what you do and have taken the time to at least dress the part.”

The implication here is that nobody would realize he was serious about his job if he was merely wearing a standard suit. I’ll remember that the next time I have to cover an event at York County Superior Court in Alfred; think Justice Brennan would mind me settling into the jury box with a prim black bow tie and a tray of caviar?

Look, I’m not ripping on boxing. (Much.) Granted, I’m not much of a fan – they call it the “sweet science,” but to my untrained eye, that science involves tip-toeing around a ring and taking intermittent swings at the air for twelve rounds. But fictional treatments of it in movies are always a gas (think “Rocky,” “The Fighter,” and “Cinderella Man”), and unlike professional wrestling, boxing has the distinct advantage of being real. It requires athleticism and genuine skill, even if that skill is focused on turning your opponent’s face into a mushy ground beef patty.

Still, tuxedos? The only other times you see them are at proms, weddings, swanky soirees, and Michael Buble concerts, usually on Michael Buble. None of those activities involve alarming amounts of blood – unless of course the marriage is ill-conceived, the prom a disaster, or Buble does a cover version of Slayer’s “Angel of Death.”

So boxing’s an event. Fantastic. So was my tenth birthday party, and the fanciest garment there was a Dick Tracy T-shirt. So take heed, boxing announcers of the world. It’s time to loosen your ties. By which I mean, chill out already.