To fully describe what exactly the program is all about, I have to start at the beginning. It was on an evening in September, when I was strolling through the activities fair, that I started the process of becoming a part of the greatest tradition at Notre Dame.

Though the formal process for beginning the program started when I signed the dotted line for participation, it was a long time ago that I actually was drawn into the program. I can recall vividly the tournament when I first saw it as a 10-year-old spectator. I saw boxers climb between the ropes and give their heart and soul to a cause that was greater whole than any single person could hope to be. I viewed the struggle for oxygen in the third round, when lesser people would have let their bodies crumble to the ground in exhaustion. But for these individuals, to give up when so much had already been given to the program would have been failure.

It was this determination that possessed me to donate my body and soul to the Bengal Bouts mission for six weeks. I never could have imagined that such an undertaking would be as rewarding as it has turned out to be.

However, during that first week of practice, I found that my determination was wavering. Doing multiple hundreds of push-ups, sit-ups, and jumping-jacks can do that to a person. But gradually, over the course of several weeks, I found that practice was getting a little bit easier. Some of that was that my body was becoming more fit. But more than that, I found that a great source of my determination was the other people involved with the program. How could I give up when so many others were laying their heart and soul on the line to continue in the program?

One of the people who was the greatest source of admiration for the program was senior captain Ryan Rans. Whenever I found myself not wanting to go to a practice, I would look to his example to inspire me. Every practice I ever went to, Ryan was there at least two hours before me. Ryan would dedicate this time before practice so that he would be able to help others in their technique and skills during the actual two hours of practice. Whenever a person had difficulty in some aspect of boxing, Ryan was there more than willing to dedicate his time and effort so that others may learn.

Ryan has become one of the greatest tragedies of the program, one that all of the boxers truly understand more than anyone else. Ryan suffered severe breakage to both of his hands during the fight on Wednesday. Though the cause is not known for certain, the most probable reason is that he suffered stress fractures during the course of the six week training program and the fight caused the bones to finally give way. What makes this such a tragedy is that Ryan dedicated his life to the program. Without him, I am convinced that the program would not have progressed to such greatness this year.

An example of Ryan’s love for the program occurred on Thursday. The finalists were enjoying their final meal together before the championships on Friday. The atmosphere was joyous, but also subdued because we had heard the news that our leader, Ryan, was in surgery to put his mangled hands back together.

Who should appear halfway through the meal but Ryan, fresh out of surgery not a half an hour. He walked in with both hands bandaged heavily and sat down to eat. The entire room immediately began to applaud. Ryan tried valiantly to subdue the tears, but it was no use. He finally laid his head in fellow captain Brian Gaffney’s chest and let the emotions flow freely. I sat with a tremendous lump in my throat, unable to do anything to mend the sadness which held heavy over Ryan’s heart. There was not a person at the table who wished they could have done something to fix that which was not fixable. Where we had seen a person who had delivered thundering jabs to his opponent, we now saw a person who struggled to feed himself. We had seen courage from Ryan inside the ring, and now we saw even greater demonstration of courage simply by making himself present at nothing more than a ceremonial dinner.

This example is just the greatest out of many of what kind of people participate in the program. The tournament was the most incredible experience I have ever been a part of. The pure nervousness, the raw emotion, was unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. Walking into the ring, hearing the roar of the crowd, having your name announced, it was all incredible. I could do very little to maintain my composure when the semi-final fight started. I ended up winning the fight in a unanimous decision. The feeling when the referee raised my hand was incredible. The cheers from my friends made my heart leap. It was pure craziness.

So then came Friday and the finale. As emotional as I was for the Wednesday fight, I was 10 times more so for the finals. The stadium was packed with about 4,000 people cheering wildly. I was one of two competitors in the first fight, so the crowd was really into it. The adrenaline burst I got before the fight is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. When I got in the ring before they announced my name I was in ecstasy. When the fight started I could do little not to expend all of my energy in the first minute. During the second round my opponent, Matt Peacock, landed a flurry of punches that had me reeling, but I stayed in. I’m not sure what kept me from falling to the ground. I think it was a combination of all the things I have already mentioned. I thought back to the fighters I had seen as a child and their determination to not let their bodies drop. I recalled the dedication of the other fighters. I thought about the people in Bangladesh whom I was fighting for so that they may be nourished. The dedication of Ryan Rans to make it to a simple dinner just to be a part of the program crossed my mind and I found strength in that example.

I knew my opponent had won when we hugged in the middle of the ring when the final bell sounded. As we hugged, I offered my congratulations. I felt great for Matt Peacock because he was a senior and had never won a championship. Plus he, like all the other boxers, is an incredible person, to whom I feel a closeness that I expect we will feel for the rest of our lives. As I walked out to the middle of the ring for the decision to be announced, I lost it. My eyes started tearing up and I tried to hold them back until I could get back to the locker room, but it was no use. I was incredibly joyful that I could be a part of such a noble cause. I thanked God that I could be a part of such a great tradition, for this absolutely tremendous people I had met, for the University for offering a program that could get me so emotionally wrapped up.

Most of all, I thanked God for giving me the ability to have the determination and strength to fulfill my goal of getting in the ring. As I walked from the ring to the locker room, I lost it. Everyone was offering congratulations on my effort. I was thanking them as I tried to no avail to hold back my tears. When I got to the locker room, I was so emotional that I was hyperventilating. And then when I thought I couldn’t get any more emotional, my Dad walked into the locker room to offer congratulations. We hugged and I was crying and he had tears in his eyes. It was one of the moments I will treasure for the rest of my life.

After my dad left, I was sitting in front of my locker thinking about the whole thing, trying to take it all in. I sat there crying. Jack Mooney, an 85 year old man who has been a part of the program for 50 years, walked up to me and said, "I’m proud of you." Mike Romanchek walked up and offered words of wisdom which I will always remember. He said, "Did you give it your all?" I replied that I had. He said, "Anyone who gives their all in the ring is automatically a champion." I sat there, not wanting to take off my shorts, because that would mean the whole thing would be over. But I knew that the end had come. I changed my clothes and walked out of the dressing room, with my head held high.

David Frick
Sophomore, Keough Hall
March 1, 1998