The main character in the novel I’m writing boxed in the Police Athletic League (PAL) during his youth. This week, I found myself at the local PAL gym and felt inspired to join. How could I resist? They had two rings and a row of heavy bags. So, I signed up and am eligible to compete with opponents in or near my weight class. I’m at the master’s level, meaning anyone over forty. Not only do I meet that requirement, but if my daughters joined, they’d meet it as well.
I doubt they will join. When I told them three years ago that I was joining the university boxing club, they suggested chess instead. Funny, boxing strategies are often described in terms of chess. I know Bobby Fischer clobbered quite a few people. So, there you go.
If they’re involved in the sport at all, people over forty tend to coach rather than box, for obvious reasons. Apparently, what’s obvious to most isn’t obvious to me, which accounts for the reaction of my judo coach to the news. When I told him what I’d done, he paused, looked at me, and quietly finished putting on his gi.
You might be tempted to dismiss this as the sad longing for lost youth. I won’t deny there’s some truth to that, but I’ve had an interest in martial arts in one form or another for years. I remember sitting in front of the TV during high school, dressed in a black kung fu gi, watching David Carradine as Kwai Chang chop and kick his way across the Wild West. I hung up my shin guards years later when, as a graduate student, I got clobbered by a fifteen-year-old in full-contact sparring. That’s when I decided books were safer.
Well, they were safer until I stepped into the octagon of academia. I got clobbered there, too. It seems getting clobbered is a recurring theme in my life. This time, however, I enjoy the physicality and mental strategies inside the ring. This isn’t a “two go in, one comes out” sort of thing, but a way to channel energy that builds up the body and breaks down barriers between people. As one of the university coaches put it, “There’s nothing like trading punches to bring two people closer together.” Sounds like some of my relationships.
I may meet another fifteen-year-old in the ring at PAL, but this time it’s different—I know my age and limitations. I don’t expect to do full-contact sparring with younger boxers all the time. I’m content to assist the coaches and provide whatever guidance I can. As an elder, I bring value by offering a perspective and experience that younger boxers simply don’t have.
I’ve also spent years teaching in business schools and running executive education programs. While companies no longer prioritize leadership development the way they once did, training leaders remains an ongoing necessity. I remember one program in particular run by the Marine Corp out of its base in Quantico, Virginia. It exposed executives to situations and team-building exercises adapted from Marine officer training. These were modified, of course, but aspects of leadership certainly carried over.
Now, what if the Marine Corp offered master-level training to seniors, say fifty-five and older? Think of the benefits: senior citizens—Boomers—would have an opportunity to become Marines, making a dream come true that they might have missed out on earlier in life. Sure, not every Master Marine would be able to run an eight-minute mile or hold a plank for ninety seconds, but they could contribute in other ways and would have no trouble going to bed early and rising before 6:00 am. I’d still require them to meet the pull-up minimum, however, as resistance strength declines with age and is an important indicator of longevity. You don’t want anyone dying on base.
I get why the commandant might have concerns. First, Master Sergeants would have to be called “Master Master Sergeant,” and each Master Marine would have to be called “sir” or “ma’am,” which would lead to all kinds of confusion. Second, if they implemented a reverse legacy policy, parents and grandparents would have to be separated from their younger relatives. Third, language would have to be cleaned up quite a bit, which would affect the morale of the younger troops. Finally, a major point of basic training is to remove young men and women from their home environment to remake them as Marines. How, exactly, do you do that with grandpa living on the base?
I don’t know if the Marines–at 250 years old–are ready for such a bold concept, but if you’re retired and interested, put your track suit on. They may be looking for a few good Boomers. Oorah!
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