Fight night

Boxing was never meant to become a passion.

Orla Rose Davis took up the sport for the health benefits – the increased confidence, the body toning, the self-defense.

She chose it through curiosity, and because she happened to be living with an expert in the sport.

She wasn't expecting to be good at it, much less that it would become a lifestyle.

She had no idea that she'd return from Rumble at the Falls last week clutching a medal.

It was Orla's first time entering into the Sioux Falls boxing tournament, something she set her sights on after attending as a birthday treat last year – that time purely as a spectator.

Her first attempt, and her first success, all at just 16 years old.

Choosing a Passion

Three years ago, almost out of the blue, Orla asked her dad, John Locher, to train her.

"One day, I just said to my parents that I wanted to do boxing. It was just a click in my head," she says.

At the time, the family was living in Sacramento, California, and Orla saw the dangers in the world and wanted to be able to defend herself.

"I was a little, chubby kid, I wanted to lose weight, too, but also I just wanted to do it – it looked fun," she says.

John was the right person to ask.

"I was a fairly accomplished amateur boxer myself. I boxed semi-pro, because I boxed on pro fight night but I didn't get paid," John says.

"I've been to a couple of international tournaments and for a while I was ranked third in the world as an amateur, and I was in the Marine Corps for 40 years and was an instructor at the unarmed combat school, teaching fighting. Not necessarily boxing, but combat fighting – hand-to-hand fight."

John's very physical background also included triathlons, marathons and ultra-marathons, as well as taking on the assistant wrestling coach role at his son's high school.

"Orla kind of new part of that, but I didn't push it with her. It was just part of my history," he says.

John was surprised when Orla asked him to train her, and says it was never something he planned for. It's important to know, he says, that Orla has been the driving force behind her own training.

Early Signs

Orla may not have expected to have much talent, but her dad could tell almost immediately. The pride he feels in the young girl who chose to follow in his footsteps is almost tangible.

She's the full package, he says: physically talented with a natural "fight IQ". As she got better and better, John had to raise his game, too, in order to defend himself.

That's when he knew it was time to find her a professional coach.

"If I gave her a broken nose or a bloody lip, I'd get in trouble with her mom – but if it happens at the gym, it's perfectly fine," he jokes.

"I could only go so far – and I did, I took her pretty far. I boxed with her every night. From 6 to 7:30 p.m., she and I were doing pads, or hand fighting, or full sparring, and she learned my moves so well."

Orla needed to fight more people. With her mom's agreement, John found her a professional coach in the form of Ryan McGivern of Meraki Box, Rapid City.

"She needed that gym, too, and that gave her the ability to spar with at least eight different people."

No matter how high the standards that were set for her, Orla seemed ready to meet them.

"We never allowed her to spar with a girl, or anybody her age, or anybody her size. She sparred with adult men, all of us six feet tall, between 190 and 260 lbs., so that she would learn how different people move, hurt and hit," he says.

"During a fight, when her opponent gets on her and starts leaning on her, if she could push away a 260 lb man, she could push away that opponent."

Heart and Soul

Before he agreed to train her, John told Orla that she'd need to get permission where it counts.

That blessing, of course, needed to come from her mom, Mercy, who is not exactly a fan of boxing. John gives endless credit to his wife, who had to step a long way out of her comfort zone.

John and the other coaches can train Orla, he says, and Orla herself can put in the time and effort, but Mercy is the heart, soul and spiritual bedrock that her daughter's success is built on.

Not only did Mercy attend Rumble at the Falls despite not being best pleased even when boxing is on the television, John points out that she stayed until the very last fight in support of Orla.

It didn't change her mind. At one point, Mercy says, a nurse felt the need to encourage her to breathe, concerned she might pass out.

But when your daughter develops a passion as profound as the one Orla feels, it's a game-changer.

"I still hate boxing. I absolutely dread it, but I support my daughter and that's the foundation for me," Mercy says.

"I've always believed in her and I've always said: whatever it is you do, glorify God and do your best at it. It happens to take the platform of boxing, and I did not expect that when I said it years ago, so it's an adjustment for me, but I'm very proud of Orla and I believe in Orla and she is going to go all the way because that's just who she is."

Perhaps Orla's love of boxing was inevitable, Mercy says. Sixteen years ago last week, she brought her daughter home after a two-month stay in the NICU.

"She was full-term, but she was only three pounds and she was born with gastroschisis, where her intestines developed on the outside of the body," Mercy says. "She was born a warrior and a fighter."

Fight Ready

"I train every day, wake up at 4 a.m.," Orla says, laughing in agreement that it's a tough self-imposed schedule. It's the results she gets that make her love what she does.

"Now that school's out, I wake up a little later and I work out for about two hours."

Starting at 108 lbs, Orla had to make 120 lbs to qualify. She ended up at 123 lbs.

"I had to gain weight, so I was drinking four shakes a day and working out – I wanted to throw up, it was disgusting. But I did it, because I was so determined," she says.

Every part of Orla's training had a purpose. Perhaps her least favorite part was the assault bike, a grueling piece of equipment that counts calories at a snail's pace.

She may not have enjoyed it, but she never got tired in the ring.

John, who has been there himself, was also able to give Orla a grounding in aspects of the sport outside her form in the ring. For example: event fatigue.

"You get to an event and it's so big and such a rush to your adrenal gland that you actually get exhausted before you step into the ring. It's a very real thing," he says.

John and Ryan also taught her to pace herself to maintain a consistent level of performance throughout the fight. "Your last round is like your first round," she nods.

And perhaps most importantly of all, Orla learned the effect her own outlook could have on her success.

"As she's walking to the ring, she's got this big old smile on her face," John says. The same wasn't true of all the fighters, some of whom appeared overcome by nerves.

But Orla was determined to enjoy every moment. That grin never slipped.

"I smiled throughout the whole thing," she says. "My opponent wasn't smiling, but I was having fun. That's what my coach said, that you have to have fun."

That's important, says John, because the results aren't always dependent just on the punches thrown.

"It's your attitude, too, in the ring," he says.

You'd never have been able to tell as a spectator, but Orla admits she was incredibly nervous before her fight – she just wasn't about to let the audience know it.

"You've got to put on a performance, and that's what I did," she says.

Right at the end, the smile finally faltered. Standing by her opponent after the fight, waiting to hear the results, she had no idea whether she had won.

"I was so scared," she says. "I thought I was losing."

In the Ring

Orla wasn't losing. It's fair to say that she dominated this, her first fight; coming out hard and aggressive, she refused to let up until the bell rang.

"She had a good, hard punch – she was good technique-wise. She didn't really duck or move left or right, she's more of a wrestler," Orla says of her opponent, Hady Cisar of Sioux Falls. "Boxing is kind of a side thing for her. It wasn't a walk in the park, she was good. But I was better."

Orla has developed all-round skills that support her well in the ring, John says. He was pleased to hear the commentators' surprise that Orla had referred to "the sweet science", an old-school term for boxing that she learned from John and Ryan.

"They were so impressed," he says. "But that's what she does, she doesn't just go in there and throw leather and hit people on the nose. She had the movements and traditional boxing skills, when so many times in amateur tournaments it's just slugging."

Muscle memory helped, says Orla. When her opponent came at her, Orla was able to get on top of her and block her hooks.

"She threw hook after hook, but Orla blocked, ducked, parried, hand-fought, jabbed, upper-cutted," says John. "She was a puncher – Orla is a boxer."

Despite the nerves she was so effectively hiding, Orla told herself that her opponent was not going to take everything she'd worked so hard for. That, she says, is why she was so aggressive from the start.

"My coach told me, 'have evil intentions', and I did," she laughs. "I just started beating her."

It's scary getting punched in the face, Orla says, but she can take it. She came away from Rumble at the Falls with a few bruises, but nothing that would put her off competing again.

"My nose hasn't even broken yet," she grins proudly.

She certainly has the temperament to take a few knocks, says her dad. He remembers a time while they were sparring when he accidentally kicked her square in the face.

It was a good, hard kick, but to his surprise, Orla simply shook her head, squared back up and hit him.

John does admit that Mercy wasn't alone in not enjoying Orla's fight. Nobody but Orla had much fun until they could watch it back later, he says.

"After the fight, she was supposed to go right over and be interviewed on the commentator's table, but there was so much joyful hugging and relief and celebration," he says. "She did get there eventually, towards the end of the next fight."

Second Round

Ask about the dreams Orla has for her future and the first thing she'll tell you is that she'd love to encourage other girls to get involved.

"I want to make a difference," she says.

Boxing isn't a sport that's often marketed to girls, and it's not that common a pastime in this area for either sex, but Orla thinks that could change. Just as a few determined female wrestlers have opened up the sport to girls across Wyoming, she says it would make her happy to pioneer female boxing.

John says he could easily see her working at a gym, training younger kids.

Meanwhile, over the next few months, the four or five different gyms in Rapid City will be hosting inter-club fights, says John, all of them USAA sanctioned, and Orla is looking to get involved. But first, he says, it's time for a well-earned rest – if she can be convinced to take one.

"She's taking three weeks off to be a teenager – although, we came home Sunday night and Monday she was on the bag again," he says.

Orla shrugs, happy to admit her addiction and desire to keep training, keep improving, keep enjoying every moment of her passion.

She may now have the medal she set out to win, but there are plenty of goals left on her fight card, from the desire to be a coach that she's had since childhood to other competitions and more wins.

"I want to be the best fighter in the world for where I am right now," she says. "And I want to inspire people."