Why women’s boxing doesn’t grow

We all heard the bad news. Boxing took a big hit in the 29th Southeast Asian Games in Kuala Lumpur, and our best women’s boxers will be relegated to well-trained spectators. It’s a bitter pill to swallow. But it’s also indicative of the state of women’s boxing in general. In the Philippines, it’s worse off than most of the world. And it’s unlikely things will get better. Here are some reasons why.

Disenfranchisement. When the host country of the Olympic Games, Asian Games or Southeast Asian Games looks to cut down on costs and lessen the chances of other countries taking away gold medals, they look at combat sports. If the Philippines is their first target for minimization, they limit or remove billiards, bowling and boxing, and generally they trim down or outright eliminate women’s boxing, if possible. Women’s amateur boxing does share the limelight with the men, but it is not a company of equals. Women’s boxing is still considered an accommodation in more conservative Asian countries, despite their performance. Their schedules are different, and they don’t get prime time. Why is that? Probably because men run everything. With the exception of Elorde family, how many female executives are there making decisions in the sport in the Philippines?

Less cash. Even in the US, there is a huge disparity between what female boxers earn and what male boxers make. Last weekend, Amanda Serrano put her WBO super bantamweight title on the line for a mere US$17,500. WBO welterweight champion Manny Pacquiao took what is considered a massive pay cut in beating Jessie Vargas for the belt at US$ 4 million. Granted they aren’t in the same league, but the women’s paycheck is ridiculous, and that was even broadcast on Showtime Extreme. You will hardly ever hear those kinds of number (or those few digits) for a men’s bout. What more in less progressive countries like the Philippines, where starting men’s pros make anywhere from P1,500 to P4,000 for a debut four-rounder, minus expenses?

No pro game in the country. Is there a decent opportunity for a career as a female professional boxer in the Philippines? The hard answer is no. How much do Philippine champions even make? How many women would even train to get to the level where they could fight for P20,000? It just isn’t worth it. Even Asian Games silver medalist Annie Albania took her incentive check from 2010, then dropped out of the game altogether in her prime. There were personal reasons, to be sure, but there just isn’t enough incentive to stay in the game.

MMA brain drain. Former women’s world boxing champion Ana Julaton and Jujeath Nagaowa, who fought for two world titles, both knew that despite their talent, they would never make a decent living as boxers, left the sport to concentrate on mixed martial arts. But they have to deconstruct their game, learn grappling, and essentially start all over again. And they’re getting hit with gloves that aren’t padded, and literally swimming with the sharks who’ve been training in the sport longer. Luckily, female mixed martial artists with strong boxing backgrounds have been winning recently, as evidenced by Ronda Rousey’s last two knockout losses. But let’s see if that will trickle down and open doors for Filipina boxers.

MMA alphabet soup. Corollary to the previous paragraph, like boxing, there are so many MMA organizations around the world. In the last three years alone, Nagaowa left One Championship to join World Series of Fighting (WSOF) Global. Each has its own market and own level of recognizability. But as a fighter, it makes it doubly difficult to keep jumping ship unless you are offered an immediate title shot. Plus, in some cases, matchmaking is suspect, and it is more likely for a newcomer to get injured or beaten badly, particularly since rules vary from organization to organization.

Boxing as a form of exercise has grown tremendously in the last five years, and that includes women learning it for self-defense. There are no less than three dozen Elorde boxing gyms all over Metromanila, and a boutique boxing gym in Bonifacio Global City. But so far, it has not translated into a surge in competitive boxing for women. Unlike ultimate frisbee and touch football which has whetted curiosity for tackle football and brought about the formation of the American Tackle Football Association of the Philippines (ATFAP), there has so far been no migration from casual boxer to full-time pug, and even less of the odds of that happening for women.

What will it take, then? Perhaps if Ana Julaton’s plan to win one last women’s world title pushes through, combined with continued success in MMA by female pro boxers, there will be enough of an interest in the sport for more women to make it a living. However, they will not be able to do it by staying in the Philippines. They will have to go where the promoters and the fights are. If Julaton herself chose to move to Las Vegas, then perhaps that is the trail other women boxers must follow. But they will have to be prepared to pay a higher price than their male counterparts. That is the sad reality that needs to be changed.