THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, April 21, 1996 TAG: 9604190208
SECTION: CHESAPEAKE CLIPPER PAGE: 04 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY JOHN-HENRY DOUCETTE, CORRESPONDENT
LENGTH: Long : 104 lines
Some of his patients are small children with allergies. Some are big guys who punch each other.
Dr. Joseph E. Vaccarella, a family physician at Western Branch Family Practice, moonlights as a ringside physician at boxing matches.
The 36-year-old physician became a fight doctor after being a lifelong fan of a sport many of his colleagues refuse to support because of its brutality. Vaccarella said he understands why they feel that way, though he does not agree.
``I know it sounds contradictory to the Hippocratic oath,'' said Vaccarella. ``But as long as you have two men who are willing to get in the ring and all of the safeguards are in place - such as a qualified referee, at least one ringside physician and all of that - the chances of significant damage are relatively slim.
Fights are going to happen, he said, and the presence of a ringside physician makes them safer.
Vaccarella said he loved boxing even before he understood its terminology. He vividly recalls running down the stairs of his family's Norfolk home the morning after Joe Frazier and heavyweight champ Muhammad Ali clashed at Madison Square Garden in New York in 1971. Then 10, Vaccarella grabbed the sports page and found himself dismayed upon learning Frazier had defeated the champ after 15 rounds by something called a ``unanimous decision'' - when a fight goes its allotted number of rounds and ringside judges determine the winner by using a points system.
``I didn't know what a decision was at that age,'' said Vaccarella. ``I thought whoever knocked the other guy out was the winner.''
As a teenager, he and a younger brother built a ring in their back yard from swing-set posts imbedded in concrete and connected with rope. There they ``mixed it up'' with the neighborhood kids.
Vaccarella slugged away at ``heavy bags'' made from onion sacks stuffed with cloth and weighted with a brick or two. It isn't a practice he recommends.
``Every now and then you'd catch a brick,'' he said. ``It would hurt.''
Vaccarella said it was never practical to get involved in a boxing league during his youth. He remained a student of the sport, pouring over boxing books, watching fights on television and at local rings. He continued to love the sport.
``I liked the one-on-one confrontation,'' he said. ``If you lose in boxing, ultimately you're responsible. You can't blame it on a teammate.''
After graduating with a degree in electronic engineering from Old Dominion University, Vaccarella decided the field wasn't for him. He turned to medicine. Three years ago, while he was still in his residency, he approached a ringside physician at an amateur bout and asked how to get started.
``He said he'd get back with me,'' said Vaccarella. ``I thought that was a write-off right there, but, lo and behold, about a week later, I got a notice in the mail saying I was the physician-in-training for a fight that was coming up.''
A fight doctor, he learned, is responsible for observing fighters during and between rounds and advising the referee if a fighter looks like he cannot continue. Vaccarella learned to check for signs of fatigue and dizziness. He learned to check for cuts or swelling areas on the face that could turn into cuts. Another valuable lesson was learning to observe inconspicuously.
Vaccarella said: ``If they see a doctor checking them out every minute, it starts to play in the back of their heads. `Hey, I'm really losing . . . The doc keeps checking me out.' ''
Vaccarella was at the recent exhibition where Norfolk's Pernell ``Sweetpea'' Whitaker boxed four men for charity. The first three were sports announcers for local television stations. They sparred loosely with the champ. The fourth man worked for a diving company. He put up $1,500 of his own money to earn the bloody nose Whitaker gave him with a leaping jab to the face.
The fourth contestant seemed to take his ring time a little more seriously than the others. Vaccarella said, ``Whitaker could have knocked him out in 30 seconds if he'd wanted to.''
The biggest fight of Vaccarella's career was another starring Whitaker - an October 1994 match vs. Buddy McGirt, a New York welterweight Sweetpea had last faced March 6 of the previous year. In the 1993 fight, Whitaker had beefed up from junior welterweight to welterweight and won a unanimous decision. With Vaccarella at ringside at the Norfolk Scope in 1994, Whitaker again earned an easy decision.
The hoopla surrounding the rematch landed it on HBO, and the doctor was glad to be along for the televised ride. ``Everybody and their uncle wants to be involved in those events,'' he said.
Vaccarella attended a conference for ringside physicians last month in Boulder City, Colo. He said he was excited to meet doctors who worked in the ``fight capitals'' like Atlantic City and Reno, but the biggest thrill was when one of the sport's greats took center stage.
Gene Fullmer, perhaps best remembered for taking Sugar Ray Robinson's welterweight title from him for a few months in 1957, was at the convention to present an award. Vaccarella introduced himself. It was a meeting that took him back to a childhood of reading about Fullmer's exploits in books between punching sessions on the stuffed onion sack.
``Before they even announced his name, I knew who he was,'' said Vaccarella. ``He was surprised that somebody still wanted his autograph. Those days were long behind him.''
Vaccarella said he is only three years young when it comes to his boxing career.
``I guess it's something in my blood,'' he said. ``I'm in it for life.'' ILLUSTRATION: Staff photo by MARK MITCHELL
Dr. Joseph E. Vaccarella, a family physician, moonlights as a
ringside doctor at boxing matches.
by CNB