On winning, and the three important lessons I’ve learned from Rocky Balboa
On my way home from work late one night, I stopped at Rocky’s Pizza on Coney Island Avenue in Brooklyn. While waiting for my slice, I noticed a sign with the famous inspirational quote from Rocky Balboa (2006). Signs like this are in every men’s locker room, but the quote was new to me. I had never paid much attention to the I-talian Stallion, but that night by the sausage, pepperoni, and cheese, felt a connection.
Rocky’s story is about courage and strength in the face of impossible odds, resiliency, and the ability to shine light in the darkest corners of our heart. Rocky is much more than a boxing film, and the stories of all boxers are about more than just the sport. Often, their fight is personal, intimate, and urgent, and about much more than winning the match. They are often battles against inner demons that can’t be fought in the arena of logic and rationality. Their fight is our fight, too. As we stare down into the vertiginous cavern of our fears, we’re seeking to find what it takes to resist their seductive pull, and regain control.
In boxing, the stakes are high, and they are real. In both winning and losing, there is great danger of long-term debilitating injuries. In his article in The Guardian, ‘Boxing is a mess’: the darkness and damage of brain trauma in the ring, Donald McRae writes about the risks boxers face from brain trauma, or chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE). He asks, why are boxers willing to take the risks associated with CTE, along with scars, crooked noses, and stiff joints? Why is it that they describe feeling intensely alive inside the ring?
Olympic gold-medalist, Nicola Adams, offers a compelling answer to these questions. In an interview in the Guardian, Nicola Adams: ‘I had a hammer under my bed in case I needed to help my mum’, she describes how her father beat her, and what it felt like to be a small girl and see her mom also suffer at his hands. After Adams’ mother left her dad, Adams thought the nightmare was over, but the violence continued in her mom’s subsequent relationships. Adams felt powerless and alone.
Boxing gave me that courage and it made me think that if anything happened again I’d be able to protect myself and my family. Boxing also became my safe space.
The documentary, Lioness: The Nicola Adams Story, shows how for her, the light and opportunity boxing provides makes it worth the risk.
Jill Morley also tells the story of how boxing helped her confront the debilitating effects of PTSD in her 2013 documentary, Fight Like Girl. Morley was beaten repeatedly by her mother throughout her childhood. She describes how at first, instead of feeling empowered, being in the ring induced a flood of overwhelming emotions. When Morely first started boxing, she would find herself cornered by her opponent, unable to breathe and physically immobilised. It caused her trauma to resurface with such intensity that she nearly took her own life. Her crisis almost threatened to shatter her goal to compete at the Golden Gloves. Her perseverance becomes a personal triumph over the incredible odds stacked against her.
Boxing is so gripping because it takes us into the foulest corners of the human heart, and shows us an empowering, honest, and critical path from darkness to light. That is why the Rocky franchise has been so successful, and resonates far beyond the world of boxing, and why that night in Rocky’s pizza has been etched into my memory.
These and the three powerful lessons I turn to again and again.
Lesson 1: It’s not about how tough you are; the real source of strength is love.
Rocky is a love story, as Sylvester Stallone famously puts it, “he could never have reached the final bell without Adrian”. Rocky teaches us that if you believe in yourself, know that you are loved, and that you deserve to get what you are worth, you will triumph over even the most impossible odds.
The Rocky series begins in Philadelphia in the 1970s in a neighbourhood for the working poor, where keeping up hope for a better life is like threading a fine embroidery needle with twine. Rocky is hapless and alone, living in a shoddy apartment with his turtles, Cuff and Link, who seem to be his only friends. He lovingly dotes on them, showing that the tough boxer who just beat his opponent to a bloody pulp, is really a good natured gentle giant.
Stallone describes Rocky as “the all-American tragedy, a man without much mentality and few social graces.” but with a faith and patriotism that is not undermined by the destitution, brutality, and rejection he encounters at every turn. Rocky fumbles through most of his social encounters during the first scenes in the movie, but the most pitiful of all are his goofy attempts to connect with Adrian.
Rocky sees Adrian’s true beauty behind her mask of resignation to the humiliation and abuse that she suffers. When he looks at her, deep empathy shines through his soft sad eyes. On perhaps the most awkward date in all of film history, Rocky is able to draw her into his protective arms to safety. Once she is confident of his devotion, she drops her mask, and her love becomes a harbour of safety, and his ultimate source of strength.
I didn’t have it easy growing up, we had just enough of what we needed, but not much more. And like Morley and Adams, I suffer from the trauma of a childhood of abuse, abandonment, and neglect. I sometimes feel cornered, and unable to make the tears and pain stop. In those moments of darkness, like Morley, who despairingly laid in bed looking at a a bottle of sleeping pills, I long for the black out that self-harm, or drugs and alcohol can provide. Morley luckily called a friend who knew how to activate her support network. What pulls me through, without fail, is thinking about people who I love, and especially my daughter. The profundity of her love and need for me, and my love for her, and innate desire to be the best mother I can be, grounds me. I may be staggering like Rocky before the 15th round, but like him, I stand up and cry, “don’t stop this fight”!
Lesson 2: Falling down isn’t failure; staying down is.
Rocky’s boxing style in the 1976 film was unconventional. He knew he was an underdog. He didn’t have agility in his footwork and was further handicapped as a left-handed hitter. To make it through the fight with Creed, he had to train his stamina to compensate for his lack of skill. He left his face defenceless taking blow after blow, effectively confusing his opponent and wearing him down. In his first match with Creed, he knew he didn’t have a chance to win, he just wanted to make it through without getting knocked out. Creed went into the fight with the confidence of a crow. His blustery showmanship fell away when he confronted Rocky’s feirce determination. As Rocky picked himself up over and over, showing that he was not going to give up, a brutal intimacy unfolded between the two men. Their struggle became urgent and compelling, it went beyond the ring. There is poetic beauty in how Rocky turned his moment of apparent defeat into a personal victory. He proved to himself that he wasn’t “just another bum from the neighbourhood”.
Morley’s desire to make it to the Golden Gloves wasn’t about winning, either. Was up against the shadowy specter of her abusive mother, desperately trying to channel her debilitating fears into agency. She didn’t win her match, but she accomplished something greater. She was no longer trapped in the scared body of a little girl. She went on to coach other young girls in boxing as a way to keep healing, and to give them a gift of empowerment.
Success is measured on a self-determined scale, and by your own capacity to endure, your tenacity, and your determination. There is no question. You will be knocked to your knees many times in life. That doesn’t mean you’re a failure. You just need to get back up, and like Rocky, be willing to go the distance.
Lesson 3: Don’t listen to the critics; write your own script.
At the time Rocky is chosen to be the long-shot contenter against the heavy-weight champion, Creed, he had long been counted out and appeared to be going nowhere fast. Growing up, he didn’t just have to battle poverty and a lack of opportunity, Rocky was also dyslexic and left-handed. His father told him that he didn’t have the brains for most careers, and pushed him into boxing. At first, her seems dispassionate and ambivalent, even though he knows that boxing is his only way out of poverty.
Despite having the fortune to train early on with Mickey Goldmill, a renowned underdog fighter himself, Rocky couldn’t make it out of the low-level fight club circuit. Worse yet, he had become an enforcer for a slimy local loan shark. It was the ultimate sell out of hope. Rocky, who should have been a prize-winning athlete, gave in to failure. He stooped to new lows breaking thumbs for the mob, but he couldn’t even do that right. Mickey lost faith in Rocky, and saw him as a deadbeat loser who wasn’t living up to his potential; he was disgraced, and going nowhere fast. He wanted Rocky out, and gave his locker to another fighter. Mickey’s rejection was the most painful obstacle in Rocky’s path, because Mickey’s scorn echoed the critical voices within him that had locked him into a pattern of self-defeat.
When Rocky is offered the opportunity of a lifetime, he is forced to confront his own corrosive darkness and apathy. Each of us can relate to what he is up against. It’s a seductive siren song that draws us into the dangerous straits of inaction, self-pity, and self-loathing. It’s like a big plate of bland, over-cooked pasta Alfredo. We keep eating, hoping it will satisfy our tastebuds, but only end up with heartburn and bloating.
My own childhood resembles Adam’s and Morley’s. I had a stepmom who was going to battle to dominate me, an indomitable, stubborn child. When she realised she couldn’t win with brute force, she switched to a method that did eventually break me. Humiliation, isolation, rejection, and shame. I learned to hide under a heavy cloak of invisibility. Over time it weighed me down too much. Later in life, I was unable to confront a bullying and abusive voice teacher, and gave up my dream of singing opera. And many times I was unable to push away unwanted physical contact from men. I couldn’t stand up for myself, only knew how to leave my body under my shield of self-denial and take my mind elsewhere.
Adams describes ways that she tried in vain to protect herself as a child: with a plastic sword that was easily swiped away, or a hammer she kept under her bed, but was afraid to use. Once she threw a brick through the back window of her mom’s boyfriends car. Finally, she found shelter in the protective circle of the boxing gym, and pivoted from victim to victor, winning the gold medal at the olympics in 2012 and 2016. She not only became an incredible athlete, but she paved the way for other women boxers by courageously breaking down barriers of sexism in the sport.
Athletics gave me a way to pivot away from helplessness, too. I used to have a recurring nightmare that I was being chased and couldn’t move. My legs were heavily weighed down, or stuck in deep sand. It felt so real that even when I tried to run in real life, I would feel stagnant energy holding me back. I didn’t believe I could run, so I couldn’t. In 2019, after going through one and a half years of breast cancer treatments, I found myself at the weakest point in my life. I was given the opportunity to participate in the Livestrong program at the YMCA and committed to lifting weights, running, spinning, and swimming. I felt strength come into my body and further committed to a healthy diet. I grew confident, lean, and buoyant. My trainer gave me power exercises like jump squats, and exercises for agility. I felt stuck in my first attempts, unable to use momentum to power the lift-off, but it eventually got easier. I don’t have that nightmare anymore. I have tought my body that I can outrun panic and fear when they come after me. I have the power to push back. I have control over my body.
The way Rocky’s fortunate turns on a dime is as unlikely as the origin story of Rocky itself. In a New York Times Interview from 1976, Rocky Isn’t Based on Me,’ Says Stallone, ‘But We Both Went the Distance Stallone said he was so broke he couldn’t afford to feed his dog and was “living in Hotel Barf” when he took ball-point pen to paper and drafted the screenplay. He wanted to be an actor and wasn’t getting any recognition, the industry had counted him out. He decided to write his own script for a movie he wanted to see. He didn’t want to give in to the pessimism of the era. He wanted to tell a story about a man, about an ideal, a love, and the triumph of the human spirit that nobody else was telling.
Stallone’s success is an incredible inspiration. The Rocky franchise has grossed more than $1.7 billion at the worldwide box office. The original Rocky (1976) won Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Film Editing. Rocky III (1982) and Creed (2015) have also received Academy Award nominations. Stallone was nominated for best actor in 1976 and 2015. The soundtrack for the series by Bill Conti also received nominations in 1976 and 1982. The Library of Congress selected Rocky I for preservation in the United States National Film Registry in 2006.
Rocky’s famous motivational talk is directed at his son, but it’s like Stallone is talking directly to each of us. The final thing he tells him is that taking personal responsibility is the most courageous thing you can do. Love, and know that you are loved; rise above your challenges — they will be great, but you are better; and fight to your last breath against the critics who would rob you of your dignity. Nobody gives you what you’re worth, believe in yourself, go out and get it.
What you find will be just what you need.
Let me tell you something you already know. The world ain’t all sunshine and rainbows. It’s a very mean and nasty place and I don’t care how tough you are it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain’t about how hard ya hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done! Now if you know what you’re worth then go out and get what you’re worth. But ya gotta be willing to take the hits, and not pointing fingers saying you ain’t where you wanna be because of him, or her, or anybody! Cowards do that and that ain’t you! You’re better than that!
I’m always gonna love you no matter what. No matter what happens. You’re my son and you’re my blood. You’re the best thing in my life. But until you start believing in yourself, ya ain’t gonna have a life. — Rocky Balboa (2006)
