A certain danger looms every time a fighter enters the ring.
The risk of a father losing his son, a son losing his father, or a brother losing his. Boxing, despite the many prominent female fighters, is a “man’s game” by definition. The sport of boxing demands an ascetic lifestyle. For some fighters, a left jab is their late-night bite to eat and one of the first things they’ll encounter when they wake up in the morning. That is the life for some professional fighters.
That wasn’t Brayd Smith.
Smith was a 23-year-old man from Toowoomba, Queensland in Australia. He had a girlfriend, with whom he was loving and devout. He was targeting a law degree, and was within months from attaining that. His goal wasn’t to feed a family off of pugilism but to indulge in the freedoms it offered. He didn’t need boxing to survive, and boxing didn’t save him from any harm. Yet, Braydon Smith aspired to justify the sport of boxing.
Speaking to Boxingscene.com, family-friend James O’Shea proclaimed “A lot of times in this country the sport gets a bad rap. A goal of his in life was to show people it’s not [a bad sport].”
Father, Brendon Smith, was heartbroken by the loss of his son in the ring. Brendon Smith owns a boxing gym in Toowoomba. It remains a popular venue for both accomplished professional prizefighters and regular townsfolk. Brayd Smith learned to fight under his father’s tutelage — a lot coming in those very walls. His passion for the sport was embraced from a young age and he fought out of his father’s gym for the entirety of his professional career. He loved boxing; even his dreams of becoming a lawyer often gravitated around his desire to represent fellow-athletes, and keep them out of corrupt hands. He won’t get that chance now.
Much of his life revolved around this cruel sport — even though it meant so much more to those he knew best. It all came to an end too soon when Smith collapsed and was sent in to a medically-induced coma just hours after losing a ten-round unanimous decision to John Vincent Moralde. Not without a smile and assuring comment to The Chronicle, “A loss is a loss. But I’ll take experience from it,” did he leave the ring on March 14th. Who knew he wasn’t ever to return to doing this — fighting, learning. It was too much to elucidate — even in the days, weeks after. Even now, those closest to him certainly can’t help but to feel shorthanded — the world can’t — by the loss of Smith’s life two days after that prizefight.
Still, Smithy’s Gym is open. It will be for another day, and people will exchange fists for dinner, recreation, self-regard — what ever your heart can desire — for years to come. Calls for the sport to be banned in Australia might just drive a certain 23-year-old warrior to roll in his grave. It would undo everything he and his career was to represent; it would bastardize the sport in which he was willing to make take such great risks and go to such lengths to compete in. As difficult as it may be to consider, Brayd Smith went out doing what he enjoyed. His life ended doing what he set out to do. The road was paved so much further for him. He wasn’t allowed to wander it nearly as far as he should have, but any blame put on the referee or Filipino opponent John Moralde would be nothing less than dishonor to the family of Smith. The fight was contested like any other, and, a boxing lesson, it should have been for the talented “Great White”. An early chapter to his career — sadly, it was not.
Brayd Smith, a noble brother, fun-loving friend, and just quite simply perfect son passed away on March 18th, 2015, as a fighter. He left five others with the chance to continue their own lives as an organ donor. He left those he loved dearest with an unfathomable loss, and millions with heavy hearts across the seas.
Much closer to home, a campaign has been sparked by his death. A campaign that could, perhaps, prevent a similar incident from occurring in the future.
The family of Brayd Smith were turned back at the hospital. The most awe-struck verbalization to be spoken in any medical institution — “there is nothing more we can do” — was on the day Brayd Smith was pulled from life support and died.
The many friends and supporters of Smith have channeled their sorrow into action — donating to an optimistic and very forthright campaign to bring better access to specialists to the people of Toowoowomba. Specifically, they want to bring a neurosurgeon to the city — a neurosurgeon which, maybe, could’ve helped Brayd Smith during his time of need. Maybe, and perhaps this notion could prevent another family’s dolor; even if, all but the guesswork, is still to come.
One thing remains certain. That is, even as grief has shaken them to their very essence — the local community, the family of Brayd Smith, stand together, united, for better or worse.
We wish them the best in their pursuits, as we remember Brayd Smith for all that he was. Whether you knew him of not, his story, his spirit, are omnipresent reminders of just who this unique figure was, and will always be in memory. He was laid to rest on March 21st.
His professional boxing record finishes at 12-1.
Rest in peace, champ.
