How to “Read” a Knockout by Mark Hatmaker

 

More often than not, the obvious things or “simple” things in this world are not quite as cut and dried as we often assume.

Today’s case in point, the titled knockout, or KO from here on out.

To the layman, when they hear that a fight ended in a KO, they envision an opponent rendered unconscious lying on the canvas.

Not a bad assumption, as such a state would indeed be classed as a KO.

But…there is to the boxing/MMA aficionado more to the KO than a state of horizontal unresponsiveness.

To flay the onion skin layers of the KO let’s start with the state that precedes the official KO…the Knock Down.

The Knockdown or KD

In the boxing ring, if a fighter hits the canvas, that is technically a Knockdown, it is not a KO until they have been counted out.

In MMA the knockdown is a moot point as the action often follows the fallen opponent to the mat. In MMA being counted out does not exist but…

The referee is still looking for the same signs of incapacity or inability to render a KO judgement.

Let us return to the boxing ring to simplify what the officials in both arenas are looking for.

From Knockdown to KO

Once a fighter hits the canvas, the standing fighter goes to a neutral corner, that is, the furthest corner from the dropped fighter that does not house the seconds of either fighter.

The referee moves to the fallen fighter—conscious or not and picks up the countdown…

Notice we say, picks up the countdown.

As soon as a fighter drops, the timekeeper starts the official and meticulous countdown, the referee must assure the standing fighter has gone to a neutral corner and then move back to the fallen fighter, they then pick up the countdown where the timekeeper has advanced it in strict time.

This separation of tasks often confuses the novice fight fan, who can assume that “The Ref started the count late” or “Counted him out too soon!”

The novice is often not privy to the timekeeper being the one on top of the task and the referee merely being the message bearer. More often than not, the timekeeper is correct and the novice at home ain’t.

During the countdown the referee stands close to the fighter and provides an audible countdown so that the fighter can hear the numerals.

This proximity allows the downed fighter to “Hear” the numbers and…

·        Strategize using all the recovery time  they can or…

·        Pop up fast for a show of, “That weren’t nothin’, that was a slip.”

·        Or, sometimes in a state of diminished faculties, hearing may come “online” before the other senses. [We see the same use of aural-cueing in free-diving when a shallow-water blackout has occurred, often the loud pronouncing of the diver’s name in their ear is the rousing factor.]

The referee’s proximity also allows the BEST seat in the house to adjudicate faculties. The referee being right on top of the downed fighter can see pupils, hear stertorous breathing, and other factors that can lead to this Best-Seat-Sitter to judge, “He’s out!”

Many an audience based derisive cry of “WTF! He was moving! He coulda kept fighting!” is made from the comfort of bleacher seats distant from the action or the cushioned couch in another city with no skin-in-the game and fist-in-the-face.

I trust the eyes of the man on top of the action far more than all the Wikipedia-level fight analysis in the world.

So, we see this misunderstanding of the separation of powers between the timekeeper and the referee and the protocols of the official count can lead to novice misunderstandings.

And…

We see that a KO can often be pronounced of a fighter whose eyes are open or even on their feet and apparently “conscious”, but the eyes of the Best-Seat-in-the-House recognize that while the external puppet is functioning the puppeteer of consciousness is not working the Wizard of Oz magic from behind the curtain.

So, a KO can be out cold on the mat, or on the feet—in the sporting sense of the word, it comes down to possession of faculties and “intelligent” defense.

Shady Side-Note: With “intelligent defense” being part of the KO definition, many a couch-cushion fight adjudicator would be technically deemed KOd if placed in the same circumstances pre-contact by dint of, “Hmm, and what sort of defense is that supposed to be?”

Regarding Intelligent Defense

A referee [again, best seat in the house]can deem a fighter out on their feet, that is KOd, without a knee ever hitting the mat.

A cut or other injury that is deemed by the referee too severe too continue can also lead to a stoppage.

These on-the-feet possession of faculties or not, can also be termed KOs, which again leads to the layman’s confusion.

In short, all stoppages [apart from fouls] that end inside the scheduled distance are KOs or the clunky designation of Technical Knockout—TKO.

When one is poring through fight records only, we see that reading Wins, Losses, KOs, or TKOs are less helpful than many at first imagine.

A Wiser Way?

In the UK and Continental Europe, we find in addition to the KO and TKO, the designations RET and RSF.

RET is when the fighter or their corner “retired” their fighter before more damage could be done. Or simply, deciding to quit—Roberto Duran’s loss in the second Sugar Ray Leonard bout can here in the States technically be classed as a TKO, which a mere reading of the record leads one to think of as an action-packed finale, as opposed to the more honest retiring [RET] on the stool anti-climax of “No mas.”

Across the pond we also find the initials RSF, or Referee Stopped Fight, used for the out-in-their-feet as opposed to knocked out cold endings.

These subdivisions of endings, to my mind, allow for a bit more nuance and understanding than a mere Roman Emperor “Thumbs up or down.”

Let Us Retire with a Retirement Codicil

If a fighter or their corner decides “No mas” between rounds, the KO or TKO or RET is recorded for the round after the decision not the one before.

Example—The bell has rung, Round 3 has completed, the decision to retire occurs before the bell of Round 4, the record will record the “W” as being a Win in the 4^th round.

There you have it, a KO may only be two letters, but far more words are needed to get to the complete concept than the simple initials.

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