The death of female kickboxer Adrienne Simmons in Orlando, Fla., on Sunday is likely to receive only passing notices this week. Most of the copy will be occupied with the glut of events that begins with a UFC free-TV event this weekend and continues practically unabated through UFC 118 on August 28.
The bodies of men (and women) are not constructed for violence. Skulls are useful for the occasional mishap or accident, but God or evolution -- or a combination of the two -- did not account for our fascination with jarring the brain dozens or hundreds of times in a prizefighting career. A few can escape with only minor neurological changes, but the majority pays. Sometimes the invoice comes due much later on in life, when you can’t find your car keys and your tongue gets thick; for others, it gets delivered in the ring. You walk in and you’re carried out.
Simmons is unique in the sense that she might be only the second female to die as a result of injuries suffered in a fighting sport: in 2005, Becky Zerlentes died after competing in a Golden Gloves tournament. In both cases, the women were competing as amateurs and wore headgear. This is where we begin to see how quickly things can escalate.
Headgear is one of the great smokescreens in placating a fretting-nanny political environment. It gives the illusion of safety, yet some observers -- including Joseph Estwanik, MD, a longtime ringside physician and co-creator of the MMA gloves in use today -- insist that headgear does virtually nothing to minimize the rotational movement of the head commonly seen in sport concussions. It may, in fact, contribute to injury, increasing the violent momentum by adding to the weight of the head.
Second: Simmons was competing in her third kickboxing match of the weekend. This is the classic flirtation with disaster seen in the nauseating Toughman events, where fighters who suffer abuse are marched back into the ring only hours or days later. It’s a mistake to believe that the winner of a fight is fit to compete and only the loser has suffered injury: a winner can be knocked down, transiently losing consciousness, or endure enough damage where just one more sharp blow is one too many. Is it coincidence that Simmons died following three fights, not one? Possible. Unlikely.
Third: According to Orlando affiliate WFTV.com, no EMT staff was on hand at the show. Steve Fossom, who reportedly organized the event, dismissed this outrageous oversight by telling reporters an emergency crew was “two to three minutes” away at a nearby fire station. Another report suggests Simmons had to wait close to an hour before being wheeled in for surgery. Regardless of whether Simmons had two minutes or two hours to spare, Fossom is a man sporting horns for not understanding even 60 seconds could have a radical effect on the health of any of the participants. Karma would suggest he’s sued into oblivion, or at least a rat-infested apartment complex.
It’s possible we see so few women’s deaths in prizefighting because they lack the sheer industrial force of men powered by testosterone and animal aggression. (There are also far fewer female fights -- statistics may wind up playing a part.) But it is the case with any situation of gender, size or experience that a perfect storm of misfortune can and will occur: you may be up against the wrong opponent on the wrong day, you are hit with the appropriate force the appropriate number of times, and you wind up a cautionary tale. Perhaps no amount of exams or urgent medical attention could have saved Simmons, but not knowing for certain is something Fossom will have to struggle with for the rest of his life.