Robotic Boxing Offers Chance to Test Your Metal

Looking for a way to punch out your frustrations without risking life, limb or imprisonment? Then consider Robotic Boxing, a game that allows adults to hide behind 3-foot-tall sheet-metal boxers who do their fighting for them.

Robotic Boxing arrived in Baltimore recently at the Original Sports Bar for the first of four Tuesday evening appearances. About 32 people competed, plenty more watched, and those who tried it may never be the same.

“There’s something macho about it,” said David Cole, a 27-year-old restaurateur from Irving, Tex., who was passing through town and stopped in at the downtown bar.

He signed up, he said, because he was intrigued and--having been a championship boxer in high school--because he thought he might do pretty well. “There’s something almost very ‘70s about it all,” he added, patting his flattop. “It’s good for the ego.”

Robotic Boxing has come to Baltimore courtesy of Gigmasters, a special events company that holds the Maryland, Delaware and Washington, D.C., franchise on the robots.

One of the partners, Joel Goron, read an article on the sport--introduced about 3 1/2 years ago by an Iowa novelty-game inventor and now boasting its own international association--and he quickly bought two robots, one of 60 sets now in use worldwide. He tried them out at various pubs in Pennsylvania’s Lehigh Valley, where he lives, then took them on tour.

Scott Horowitz, another partner at Gigmasters, explained the sport’s popularity this way: “It’s a chance for people to let out their aggressions, to go out there and slug at each other without hurting each other. People really let out their aggressions, and the robots take all the abuse.”

Here’s how it works: There’s an undersized boxing ring in the middle of the room and a referee in regulation stripes. After you pay your $3--all proceeds benefit Easter Seals--the robot you control goes for three 30-second rounds to the tune of “Rocky’s Theme.”

The two opponents, strapped into harnesses attached to their respective robots, stand behind their warriors, hands gripping the handles that control the boxers’ punches. And then they go at it. The noise is near deafening, like 1,000 kids jumping up and down on a tin roof over your head.

To score points each player must punch the head of the other robot, a connection indicated by the sound of a buzzer. Like the popular kids’ game, Rock ‘em, Sock ‘em Robots, the goal is to knock the head off your opponent or score the highest number of points.

There are three weight classes for men: lightweight (under 165 pounds), middleweight (166 pounds to 200 pounds) and heavyweight (more than 201 pounds). There’s also an open weight class for women. Players choose their boxers’ names, usually trying to sound tough with such selections as Dangerous Dan or Terrible Tom.

In fact, the names aren’t all that’s tough about this game. Although it looks easy, those who’ve tried it say it’s all sweat and pain--but sometimes with gain.

Take Tomsene Blake and her brother Ricardo, for instance, who claim to be old sparring partners from childhood. The 26-year-old Blake, a customer service representative for a bank, was one of only two women who signed up. Calling herself Tiny Tommy, she wore acid-washed jeans, acid-green socks and delicate gold earrings.

But the pretty picture gave way to tough talk. “I always wanted to be a mud wrestler, but my parents would kill me,” she confessed as she got ready to go into the ring against the other woman, whom she beat.

Blake’s 24-year-old brother, who called himself Rocket Ric, teased her from the beginning: “If they put the two of us into the ring, there isn’t even a fight. I’d win it. No problem.”

In fact, the two of them ended up squaring off, and the crowd went wild. Tiny Tommy vs. Rocket Ric, who won the lightweight division.

The score was 14 to 12, and both went home with trophies. Blake was the women’s champ. Blake was the night’s overall champ.

“We’ll be back every week,” she said. “We’ve got to check out the competition.”