Boxing Kangaroos

I went to Circus Circus in Las Vegas when I was a kid, and that's where I got my first look at a boxing kangaroo. Since then I've seen this popular form of kangaroo abuse on dispaly many times. Boxing kangaroos? How did that fad catch on? It doesn't even make sense. Let's begin with some kangaroo-ish facts.

Kangaroos have little, useless, wimpy arms. Remember the T-Rex in Jurassic Park? When he found that lawyer on the toilet, did he reach down and sucker punch him a few times or poke his eyes? No - he bit him in half! Why would anything or anyone ever attack with its weakest feature? So what do we do to the poor kangaroos whose arms are nothing more than props? We strap boxing gloves on them. It's like a rhino trying to take down its prey with a Nurf bat.

Kangaroos have incredibly powerful legs. Their legs are so strong that they can hop at a speed of 40 miles an hour and leap over obstacles as tall as 10 feet. A swift kick from a kangaroo would send you rolling backward like a bag of flour shot out of a cannon. But because of the unusual shape of their legs and their bulky tails, kangaroos can't really walk or move backward very easily. Can't walk or move backward? I've never done much boxing myself, but if I did I'd probably want to be able to walk or move backward now and then. Otherwise aren't you just a stationary punching bag? So we force the kangaroo into a sport where its greatest strength becomes its biggest weakness.

Is this the only way we can make ourselves feel superior to kangaroos? "Look what a terrible boxer he is! Man he's lame!" You want to box with an animal... get a gorilla. Save the kangaroos for field goal kicking and soccer.

In the clearing stands a kangaroo and a fighter by his trade. Poor kangaroos.