Chicken fighting has had a bad rap lately. When the designated representative of chicken fighting is Reggie Miller, that may be understandable, but someone needs to stand up for the ancient and honorable sport of chicken fighting, still legal and valued in several civilized states of our union, including Missouri.
I am often called upon to defend the underdog, or in this case, the underchick, and I do so willingly, though if Miller were playing better, none of this would be necessary.
It was Michael Jordan who identified Miller as a “chicken fighter,” and whatever additional polish may be added, it comes off as an insult.
“That’s just the way Reggie plays,” Jordan said. “There isn’t anything wrong with it.”
At other times, Jordan has added the postscript “like a woman” to “chicken fighting,” which shows how ill-informed Jordan is about chicken fighting. Females do not chicken-fight, only roosters do.
The University of Delaware did name its sports teams after a famous breed of fighting chickens, the “Blue Hens,” but, like Jordan, school mascots should not be considered the last word on battling poultry.
I am not sure where Jordan got his chicken-fighting expertise because chicken fighting is a Class 1 felony in his native North Carolina. Just watching is a misdemeanor, which would mean, if Jordan were correct, that any one of us looking at Miller is breaking the law.
I have often felt that to be true of Dennis Rodman, though there is no known legislation making Rodman viewing illegal. Immoral? Well, that’s another column.
The most important thing to understand about chicken fighting is that the loser is dinner. In fact, most chickens are dinner, and sooner than those bred for the ring.
A fighting chicken lasts on an average of two years longer than your common free-range range broiler, so in its way, chicken fighting is the more humane choice. Plus you can wager on it.
And going down in gallant battle may be considered tastier to some, with a little garlic and rosemary, of course.
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Since Reggie Miller has, to date, continued to chicken-fight another time, and not always as the winner, it must be concluded that what he is doing is not chicken fighting at all, but something else.
Water bugging maybe, huh? No, there are fighting bugs, too, who operate under pretty much the same conditions as fighting chickens. The loser leaves the pit legs up, not an inaccurate description of Miller’s jump shot.
Chicken fighting has had substantial approval over the years, from Genghis Khan to Imelda Marcos, from the jungles of Sri Lanka (where it is still considered the national pastime) to our very own White House.
George Washington was a chicken fighter, or breeder and promoter of them, in any case. I have seen the pit at Mt. Vernon. Andrew Jackson held chicken fights in the presidential residence.
And Abraham Lincoln got his name, Honest Abe, because he was the most trustworthy chicken-fighting judge in the Midwest.
You can look any of this up. Look in Roget’s. There chicken fighting is included with “gladiator,” “warrior” and “swashbuckling fire eater.”
Reggie Miller could very well, on a good day, be one or both of the first two, but I could never see him buckling the first swash or even swallowing salsa.
The classic description of a fighting chicken is as follows: “Tightly feathered, long legs and neck, tall and slender in appearance.”
That certainly is Reggie-like.
Fighting chickens “do not stand cold weather well and need plenty of exercise to maintain muscle form.”
Reggie is from California, and he does dash around a lot.
So, could Jordan be right after all? Here, I think, is all that matters about chicken fighting.
Somewhere there must be a Michael Jordan of chicken fighting, while I am absolutely certain there is no Reggie Miller.