My father served in the military during a time before cell phones and social media — before there was any easy way to stay connected when the orders came and you had to move. We moved often. Every time we did, I left behind friends, neighborhoods, routines. What I never left behind was sports.

Every base had a DYA Center — Dependent Youth Activities. It was the one thing that was always there. Yongsan in Seoul. Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio. Patch Barracks in Stuttgart. Different countries, different languages, different everything — but always somewhere to play, always a way back in. Boxing programs were almost never available, though. Almost never.

Boxing was something I found through him. My father already knew the sport — sitting with him and watching the fights was one of the constants I could hold onto. I already understood sacrifice before I ever laced up gloves — I'd watched my father serve, moved from base to base, learned what it meant to give everything you had and keep going anyway.

So when I finally got the chance to train — out of a gym on Memorial Drive in Decatur, under Biggs and Coach Al — I wasn't just learning combinations. I was getting something I'd wanted for a long time. I spent enough time inside those ropes to understand what the sport actually demands: the discipline, the repetition, the sacrifice, the uncertainty. Not as a champion. Not as a contender. Just as someone who gained firsthand respect for what fighters endure every time they step through those ropes. That respect never left.

The preliminary fighter on the undercard. The prospect nobody has heard of yet. The contender who never got the right fight at the right time. Every single one of them has a story worth telling. I've watched this sport for decades, grew up around it, trained in it, and I've spent years documenting fighters that bigger outlets ignore. That's the credibility that matters here — not a record, not a title, just an honest commitment to the fighters who deserve to be known.

The Boxing Blotter isn't a mission. It's a continuation — of a conversation that started with my father, of a love for a sport that kept me grounded across four continents, of a commitment to the fighters who never get the coverage they've earned. We document before the world catches up. We call our shots before the result is known. We grade ourselves honestly after. That's it.