If you run into George Tahdooahnippah these days, you might never know that the 46-year-old executive for Comanche Nation Enterprises in Lawton, Oklahoma, used to be a prizefighter.
In all honesty, he still looks like he can go a few rounds in the ring, but he’s moved on to a successful business career working for his tribe. And the man known to boxing fans as “Comanche Boy” is not thinking of a comeback, as is the custom these days.
“No, man,” Tahdooahnippah said with a laugh. “I've got five kids. My oldest, he's a junior in college. My next one, he's my fighter. He's going to be a freshman in college and he's going to be wrestling, but he's a 2-0 amateur boxer right now who will probably do boxing and MMA.”
So the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree in the Tahdooahnippah family, and dad is fine with that, even knowing how tough and unforgiving the fight business can be. But unlike many (maybe most) of his peers, when it was time to say go, he went.
“I don't want to try to sound like I'm above or beyond anybody, but education was key,” said Tahdooahnippah, who compiled a record of 34-3-3 (2 NC), with 24 KOs, over the course of a career that ran from 2004-16. “My father, his kids were the first in our generation to graduate college, so dad really wanted to push me to get my degree. So I got a business degree and being ‘Comanche Boy,’ being a boxer, being popular amongst my people, it opened the doors up for getting people to know me within my tribal community.
"And then I just proved myself, and my deal was, well, I got into boxing and I wanted to be a millionaire and, of course, that didn't happen. So all right, what's the next way I can do it? And I went into this government contracting sector, what I'm doing now, and I’m still hustling. I'm still trying, and I still ain't done it, but it's kind of like a fight that gives me something to work for every day.”
This fight is a lot safer than the ones Tahdooahnippah used to engage in on fight night, and his aggressive style was not made for longevity. But oh, how they loved him in Oklahoma, where he became a fan favorite and bona fide ticket seller. Being a good ambassador for the sport and his tribe didn’t hurt his popularity, either.
“I was just trying to live right, trying to eat right, and hey, I was a young knucklehead,” he said. “I drank alcohol a little bit and, actually, I could have done better if I was more serious about my sport, but I was just trying to be well, I had a good team behind me, good family, good support system with my tribe because there wasn't no Native Americans out there doing it.
"So my people really loved it, and were really behind me. And that was the biggest deal. I was doing it for my people, kind of like Manny Pacquiao does it for his people. That's how I felt. It was just a drive that I couldn't explain, but I think that push helped me go so long.”
A lifelong athlete, Tahdooahnippah made noise in football and wrestling growing up, but he might have ended up in mixed martial arts after he and his father saw the early UFC events.
“That's where I was supposed to be when I started fighting,” he said. “I started out as a wrestler and then I started doing kickboxing because my goal was to get on my striking and then fight in the UFC. That's what me and my dad wanted. But during that time, there just were no gyms around [for MMA]. So I ended up doing a Toughman and ended up boxing from there on out.”
Tahdooahnippah didn’t turn pro until he was 25, so he had to move fast. And he did, even if the competition didn’t match the speed at which he was going. Yet by July of 2011, he had a nice 28-0-1 record after a first-round knockout of Jimmy Holmes that earned him the WBC Continental Americas middleweight title. That set up his big shot three wins and seven months later.”
“My closest opportunity, I think, was when I fought Delvin Rodriguez,” Tahdooahnippah said. “The night before the fight, [promoter] Joe DeGuardia said, ‘Hey, I just want to say the winner of this fight gets Miguel Cotto on HBO.’”
Rodriguez got the Cotto fight and Tahdooahnippah got his first pro loss, as he was stopped in the sixth round at Mohegan Sun in Connecticut.
The Oklahoman continued to fight, with mixed results. He went 3-2-1 (1 NC) over the next three years, calling it a day after his first-round TKO loss to future middleweight titleholder Ryota Murata in July 2016. That fight was on the
Terence Crawford vs. Viktor Postal card at MGM Grand in Las Vegas, marking his only appearance in “the fight capital of the world.”
While there were many what ifs in Tahdooahnippah’s mind when the dust settled, he knew dwelling on such things wasn’t healthy.
“I look back and I had an opportunity with Delvin Rodriguez,” he said. “I can make excuses from cutting weight. And then there were sometimes I think when I was in my prime that I didn't fight nobody because I was still trying to prove myself. I kind of think I got my bigger opportunities when I was past my prime. I was 35, 37, and I had a lot of opportunities I didn't seek and make happen when I should have.
"I got there and I failed, and I had to live with that, and I had to accept it. I was close, but no one ever talks about being close. So I just had to move on.”
He was 37, and moving on meant walking away. It was the right decision at the right time.
“I could have kept going,” he said. “I could have got another payday and helped myself try to get a little more secure financially. But this fight game is so dangerous, and the way I trained for a fight, it's kill or be killed. And you have to put that pressure on yourself when you train. I wasn't in this game to be a contender. I wanted to win. I wanted to be champion. So that pressure was the hardest part about boxing, that pressure to compete, that pressure to train, that pressure to diet, that pressure to coordinate your life all around your boxing fight schedule. It was a lot.
"And if that passion doesn't burn, then you shouldn't be doing it. And that's what started happening to me at the end. I just didn't have that burning passion, and I knew it was time to step away. And then my kids were getting older. I was coaching all my kids in their wrestling events and their youth sports. So I said, 'I just want to be a normal person. I want to be a father and just be committed to my family and their upbringing.' And that's when I said, 'I think I'm good. I did what I could while I could.'”
“Comanche Boy” never looked back, and he’s gone on to enjoy one of the rarities in this sport: a happy ending. But he still misses it a bit.
“I do,” he said. “I miss that fight feeling. When you're the fighter, everyone loves you and everyone knows you. You go into the ring and, for me, when I got my gloves on and before I'd walk out, there were drums, and it just fired me up. I felt like I was a wild Comanche, and I truly believed that. And that feeling right there, it’s by far one of the greatest feelings in my life. I miss that part.
"But hey, I've got to learn to accept it. That’s gone right now, and I can't do nothing about it. But I miss that. I’m just kind of like a regular guy now.”