It’s time for some self-reflection now that our lovely boxer finds herself without her favorite manager, but his spot is filled by her father. Unhappy with this new arrangement, she slowly accepts that her father’s a changed man, but it’s actually her future opponent who helps our boxer find the motivation to (temporarily) return to the ring.
EPISODE 9
It was a short week for My Lovely Boxer, but as much as I would have liked watching two consecutive episodes, I think the tone and character development of Episode 9 fared well on its own. This drama has always been entirely character driven (if you ignore the match-rigging business), and we’ve now reached the point in our plot where Kwon-sook must reflect on her relationship with boxing and decide what she wants to do moving forward, which will lead us into the climax and resolution of our story.
The beginning of Kwon-sook’s emotional transformation starts after Tae-young tears up his contract with Kwon-sook and frees her from being his accomplice in the match-rigging scheme. He then leaves her standing outside her childhood home, where Kwon-sook comes face-to-face with her father. Kwon-sook’s journey with boxing began with her father, so it’s only fitting that we learn more about the man whose abusive tactics created a boxing “monster” who fears and loathes the sport she dominates.
It should come as no surprise to any armchair psychologist that Chul-yong’s brutal expectations for Kwon-sook stemmed from his own failed achievements, but the real revelation to his characterization was that his career did not end because of an injury. Instead, Chul-yong choked before reaching the pinnacle moment of his boxing career. Fearing what would happen when he reached his limit, Chul-yong retired, citing a recurring fracture in his hand as the cause. The media branded him a young talent whose career was tragically cut short, and ever since, Chul-yong has lived with the shame of knowing he lied and that it was actually his cowardice that ended his career.
All of this insight into Chul-yong’s backstory is disclosed through a flashback of a conversation between Chul-yong and Tae-young, after Tae-young confesses that he took advantage of the fact Kwon-sook wanted to quit boxing. I loved every second of this scene as both men opened up and shared their vulnerabilities. On the surface, the only connection between Chul-yong and Tae-young is Kwon-sook, but through their mutual concern and affection for her, they’ve also become confidants. Kwon-sook’s boxing career may have been the catalyst for this particular conversation, but in discussing her, they revealed more about themselves.
Because Tae-young has cut ties and kicked Kwon-sook out of his apartment, she reluctantly settles into her old bedroom. Her resistance to sharing a living space with her father gives way to acceptance when she discovers that he’s been nurturing her mother’s rooftop garden, which he’s expanded into a greenhouse full of plants. Chul-yong also teaches boxing to children, and his gentle technique with them flabbergasts Kwon-sook, who did not receive the same tenderness in her father’s boxing ring. With time, Chul-yong’s repentance becomes undeniable, and Kwon-sook grows comfortable with her new living arrangements as she acquaints herself with this new version of Chul-yong.
Another character that gets a bit of a redemption arc — if you can call it that — is the insufferable Jae-min. To give him credit, his apology seems genuine, and I believe his excuse — that he got so caught up in the excitement around Kwon-sook’s boxing return that he mistook it for romantic attraction — but he’s still annoying. The collective look of disbelief Kwon-sook’s former teaching friends all wore when Jae-min put on an apron and started serving customers at Chul-yon’s restaurant is a whole ass mood that accurately reflects my annoyance that we’ll probably see more of him (especially since he seems keen on being one of Kwon-sook’s groupies).
With time, Kwon-sook’s tears over being abandoned by Tae-young dry as she settles into the comfortable familiarity of her training routine, but left to her own devices, she’s adrift and still undecided if she wants to follow through with the match against Ah-reum. But all that changes after Ah-ra drags Kwon-sook and Ho-joong to the restaurant where Ah-reum works. There, Kwon-sook is confronted by her boxing rival.
Ah-reum is the complete opposite of Kwon-sook, who lacks passion, and of Chul-yong, who once feared failure and the end of his winning streak in the ring. Instead, Ah-reum, despite a shoulder injury, plans to forge ahead with her fight against Kwon-sook. Even if she loses, she will feel proud to know she gave it her all, and she wants Kwon-sook to come at her with the same level of energy and passion.
When faced with Ah-reum’s obvious dedication, Kwon-sook finds her own spark. She still hates boxing, but she’s undecided if she still wants to throw the match. Either way, she’s inspired to fight and give it her all out of respect for her opponent. (Cue: intensive training montages.)
While Kwon-sook has been reconciling with her father and finding her place in the boxing world, Tae-young has been trying to locate the evil-doers behind the match-rigging syndicate. They’ve gone underground, but the broker who facilitated the fixed baseball games tells Tae-young that they will send out a link to their new betting website once they’re back up and running. Sure enough, it isn’t long before the bad guys start making moves. Unfortunately, one of those moves is to contact Hee-won’s widow and offer her a loan to pay for the remaining cost of her son’s eye surgery.
With the stakes even higher, Tae-young teams up with his reporter friend, who has more investigative connections to help him dig into the backgrounds of the people involved. The reporter is practically salivating over the story, especially when Tae-young stops denying he’s involved. If Tae-young gets implicated in the match-fixing schemes, then he will face jail time, but Tae-young has reached a point where he’s prepared to face the consequences so long as his loved ones are safe. And among those loved ones is Kwon-sook.
At the risk of sounding like a broken record: I still don’t feel like there’s any romantic chemistry between Tae-young and Kwon-sook, but there is no denying he cares about her and includes her among the people he wants to protect. He forced her into his life, and now that he’s cut her out, he’s still feeling the effects of their time together — as demonstrated by his body’s new habit of waking up before the crack of dawn to go running. If Tae-young shows up at the botanical garden and fulfills his promise to Kwon-sook, maybe there will be a notable shift in their relationship that even I cannot deny, but I’m not banking on it. Tae-young needs to get his shit together before getting into a relationship, and I trust he’s smart enough to realize that.
Overall, I found the pacing of Episode 9 rather slow, but I appreciated all the character development — not only with Kwon-sook and her father, but Ah-reum, as well. She’s the closest thing this drama has to your stereotypical sports drama/movie hero. She’s passionate about boxing and strives to be the best version of herself, and I appreciate that the writer has set the stage for a very novel situation in which I find myself rooting for the leading lady to lose against her opponent.
Although Kwon-sook still claims she hates boxing, I’m hoping that by the end of our drama that will change to her hating competitive boxing. She seemed to have a lot of fun teaching Chul-yong’s students and showing off her skills in front of them. Maybe that’s just the teacher in her, but my ideal ending for this drama would be for her to lose the match (unintentionally) and then retire from professional boxing in order to teach kids at her father’s boxing gym. If Tae-young also shows up as her love interest, so be it. I just want our girl to be happy.