Hajime No Ippo’s Retirement Arc: How to Heal a Broken Man
George Morikawa’s most controversial storyline provides insight into how we can conquer burnout
Disclaimer: This one might be a lil messy as I’m recovering from Slave Play-induced writer’s block.
What does it mean to be strong?
To get myself in the right mindset for this piece, I took some time to contemplate what I believed to be the definition of “strength”.
In my mind, to have strength is an undeniably good thing. To be strong is to choose the noble path, to endure great suffering and keep moving, to carry heavy burdens, to beat impossible odds, to dominate, to stop at nothing until you’ve achieved your goal, and to face adversity in a way that leaves you satisfied with how you held yourself. I considered people that I admired for their strength who had done these things; people who were constantly lavished with praise for that strength, and it was through considering all of this that I realized… my idea of strength sounds pretty exhausting.
Anyway, enough of that bullsh*t, we’re here to talk about MANGA.
The reason for my lil thought experiment is that I just read 1,400 chapters of George Morikawa’s boxing epic Hajime No Ippo. The series follows fellow beta male Makunouchi Ippo, a timid young man who, after being saved from his bullies by a boxer (who can do ANYTHING), decides to take up the sport for himself to find the answer to a question that’s been eating at him all his life:
What does it mean to be strong?
Over the course of the story, I witnessed Ippo struggle and strive to better himself, going through hellish training and a number of excruciating bouts to reach the pinnacle of Japanese boxing and eventually take on the world. Morikawa’s passion for the sport bled through every panel and I read intently as he explored what it means to Ippo and his supporting characters, what they’re willing to sacrifice for it, and how it molds them as people.
And then…
Why Jake Dropped Hajime No Ippo
Yeah I dropped this manga the first time I tried to read it.
After maybe 300 chapters.
Didn’t think about it again for over a year.
Let me explain.
To understand how Hajime No Ippo has surprised me, it’s important to understand why I dropped it, and the answer is pretty simple honestly.
It just got a bit exhausting.
The manga’s formula up to this point is a pretty simple one, Ippo has a fight lined up, he trains for it, we learn about the opponent, they fight, Ippo struggles, he wins and while he recovers a side character has a fight, they train for it etc etc.
Of course, there were standout stretches of the story, like a flashback arc where we follow Ippo’s trainer as a young boxer in post-WWII Japan, Itagaki’s arc and slow descent into arrogance, some reliably great Takamura fights, Mashiba’s brawl with Sawamura, and Ippo’s rage-fuelled one-hit KO of Kojima. But even while enjoying these moments, a familiar frustration stopped me from being truly absorbed in what I was reading:
Ippo’s fights.
One of the core themes of Hajime No Ippo (and a lot of Shonen manga) is guts, spirit, and the never-say-die attitude that can carry you to victory against overwhelming odds. That trait is embodied by Ippo countless times as we see him outclassed, outboxed, and on the brink of defeat, before eventually finding a way to victory through sheer determination and faith in his training. This pattern is so prevalent that after a while, it begins to feel like almost every victory Ippo enjoys is a desperate comeback KO, and while they’re drawn magnificently, I think this is what I’d come to grow tired of.
If I had to sum up my problem with the manga at this point, it would be that although Ippo was already “strong”, I wasn’t keen on this idea of strength.
Personally, fictionalized boxing is a bit too grounded for me to enjoy this particular trope. I can enjoy Luffy being brutalized by Katakuri for 95% of the fight and coming back to win because the rubber boy’s fighting style is fun and creative. Sure, it’s a similar story to Ippo’s fights, but Luffy’s strength of will is part of a much more layered and fascinating parallel between himself and Big Mom’s 1st commander. Also on a basic level, seeing a normal guy like Ippo be relentlessly punched in the head was a lil too much for me. After a period of time, it began to feel like Ippo’s fighting style just wasn’t all that good.
So it was with this in mind that I almost dropped the manga for a second time.
But but but…
For all of my gripes about the nature of Ippo’s fights, there were small but regular clues that Morikawa was well aware of this.
For example, in the aftermath of Ippo’s incredibly narrow win over Wally, the young Indonesian champion’s trainer, Miguel, has a chat with Ippo’s trainer, Genji Kamogawa. It’s during this chat that Miguel plainly voices exactly what I’ve been thinking for hundreds of chapters:
Ippo’s fighting style is unsustainable, and unless something changes, he will break.
Because while a string of comeback KOs might appear to be a sign of indomitable strength to some, to others it’s simply exhausting.
Hajime No Ippo’s Big Risk
I don’t know if it’s the shift in the writing, the progression of the art style, or the fact that we’re forced to focus on the wider boxing world, but for me, Hajime No Ippo after its protagonist retires from the sport he loves features some of my favourite character writing in recent manga memory.
There’s something so human about a character like Ippo who slowly burns himself out, all the while believing that by just powering through endless trials, ignoring the strain he’s under, and striving for an infinite number of smaller goals with no real endgame in mind, he’ll eventually find the answer to a question he doesn’t even truly understand.
Maybe the reason that I enjoy this stretch of the story so much is that I find it very similar to another story in which the main character is forced to give up doing what’s important to him in order to focus on healing and discover his internal drive again.
Can you guess what that story is?
Funnily enough, one of the drafts of this piece was comparing and contrasting Ippo’s journey to Peter’s in Spider-Man 2, but I realized it’d inevitably just end up being me talking about Spider-Man 2 (which is an honour reserved for my group chats or anyone who’s seen me drink enough Wray).
What Broke Ippo?
With Ippo’s ongoing retirement arc, George Morikawa asks us and Ippo to take a step back and reevaluate the character’s journey. We’re forced to ask ourselves how a character that was the definition of strength came to “break” and become weaker, and it’s only through contemplating this that we can understand how he begins to heal.
If I had to come up with a few factors that broke Ippo, I’d say they were:
His lack of conviction,
His over-dependence on external goals,
His failure to look after himself,
A failure to understand his core motivation,
Allowing himself to get punched in the head A LOT,
And another key one I’ll mention later.
I won’t go into each of these too deeply because I want to get to the crux of the piece, but what I will say is that George Morikawa hints at all of these deficiencies throughout the series up to this point.
Whether it’s his obsession with his rival Miyata (who, unlike Ippo, has an unwavering clarity in the purpose of his boxing and weakens when he relies too much on Ippo for motivation); his inability to answer when asked why he boxes; his lack of mental fortitude in the ring, constantly allowing his opponents to take the initiative; or the slow abandonment of his boxing fundamentals, Morikawa presents us with a litany of reasons for why Ippo’s breakdown is inevitable. But if I had to pin down one core recurring factor in Ippo’s downfall I’d say it’s this:
Ippo burns himself out to relentlessly pursue his goals, but he has no real idea why he’s doing it. He has no unshakeable, internal principle, philosophy, or motivation that drives him to go the extra mile with an actual purpose.
To take an oversimplified look at his peers: Mashiba fights to prove his worth and gain a better life for himself and his sister, Miyata fights to prove that his father’s boxing can conquer the world, Sendō fights because he loves it, Volg rediscovers his love for boxing after losing his mother who was his primary motivation (there’s a separate point to be made about how Volg is in some ways a reflection of Ippo), Takamura fights because he believes that he’s destined for greatness and wants to prove it (his devotion to making Coach Kamogawa happy is vital but secondary to his own internal motivation). Compared to them, Ippo’s reasons for fighting seem almost abstract and flimsy, carried more by the conviction of others and a fear of losing than a real desire to win.
Ippo reminds me a bit of my issue with Ichigo Kurosaki, the protagonist of Bleach (classic manga, one of my childhood favorites, and it only gets overtly transphobic at the very end); namely, wanting to win for the sake of your loved ones is good motivation, but there needs to be something more than that.
So now that we have an idea of why Ippo breaks down, let’s get into how Morikawa shows his healing journey.
Ippo Allows Himself to Rest
The most obvious place to start is that Ippo begins his healing process by taking a step back, consistently asserting his boundaries, and asking for space and time to rest in spite of the expectations of others.
It was glaringly obvious that our protagonist could not continue down the path he was on. His fights became too dangerous, he took too many punches he should have avoided, and he was neglecting both himself and his world outside of boxing. It was only a matter of time before he broke down and it’s lucky that his decision to take a break came before any lasting damage was done.
For the next 200 or so chapters, Ippo is confronted and questioned repeatedly over his decision to quit with friends and foes reminding him that he’s healthy enough to continue. Still, Ippo holds firm in his decision and resists the temptation to return before he feels ready.
Of course, not all of his reasons for quitting are based on his health and there are some deeper problems with his decision, but on balance, it’s the healthiest decision he could have made for the path he was headed down at the time.
He Gets A Professional Opinion
This is a simple one that was done more for plot reasons but it’s still a pretty important step for Ippo. Right after his final loss, Ippo agrees to see a specialist, specifically to check on his neurological health and rule out Punch Drunk Syndrome.
Upon conducting a series of tests, the specialist gives Ippo a very important diagnosis: he tells Ippo that he isn’t punch drunk, but if he continues the way he’s going, it’s incredibly likely that he will be. This is key because it puts the final choice in Ippo’s hands; perhaps in another manga, the protagonist would bravely take the risk, defy the odds, and risk permanent damage to fight in the sport he loves. But in this case, Ippo weighs up his future, weighs up the person who relies on him more than anyone (more on that later), and makes a fully informed decision to preserve his health.
While you could argue for and against his decision, the important thing is that it’s fully informed and backed up by a professional medical opinion (although a therapist would’ve been good too).
He Takes Care of Himself
It’s so funny that weighted clothing plays such a pivotal role in so many iconic manga, meanwhile, doctors are screaming “Please, don’t actually do this.”
While being a boxer naturally means that Ippo is constantly training and exercising, it’s notable that even after he retires, he continues to stay active.
It can’t be ignored that even subconsciously, Ippo is training himself for his return, but it becomes clearer that running, sparring at the gym, and learning about nutrition are things that Ippo genuinely comes to enjoy doing. Ippo’s continued exercise routine causes multiple characters to note that he’s made himself even stronger post-retirement. While the constant use of wrist and ankle weights isn’t medically advisable (or maybe it is, I’m not the doctor of my family), it’s clear that maintaining his routine of exercise and morning runs massively helps him to expend excess energy, connect with others, and take time to think.
He Finds Enjoyment Outside of The Ring
You really can’t underestimate the healing power of simply taking time out to figure out what you actually like doing.
Ippo’s withdrawal from the unrelenting boxing schedule means that he’s able to devote time and effort to discovering or re-discovering his hobbies. He spends more time fishing with Kumi, helps his friend and former bully out with his manga, takes a secondary role at the gym that he enjoys, and becomes more of a fan of boxing rather than an active participant in it. Even his role as a trainer gives him a sense of fulfillment while also allowing him to explore different facets of his hobby. It’s obvious that Ippo misses fighting a lot, but it’s heartening to see how much fulfillment he gets from allowing himself to do things outside of boxing, and I’m pretty sure that when he eventually returns to the ring, these things will aid him in some way or another.
He Self-Reflects & Re-Thinks
Ippo has never been the type for delusions of grandeur, in fact, many would argue that he’s often prone to being too hard on himself and overthinking. However, once he gains some distance from the ring, he’s able to properly evaluate his career, his faults as a boxer, and crucially, the other things in his life that he was neglecting while focusing so heavily on the next fight.
It’s pretty satisfying as someone who was getting sick of Ippo’s fights to see him organically realize what made his style of boxing so exhausting to watch at times, and it’s a sign of the character’s growth that he finally gains this new level of self-awareness that will no doubt serve him in the future.
It’s also important that Ippo is forced to reevaluate his idea of strength after rescuing a budding mangaka from being bullied. Seeing someone totally reject his idea of the word and immediately commit themselves to a passion that isn’t boxing makes Ippo realize that he may have been thinking about his driving force all wrong and that kind of self-reflection can only be healthy for him in the long run.
He Practices Mindfulness
There’s a moment I like depicted above where Ippo notices the stars for the first time and realizes how his obsession with the next goal robbed him of the ability to enjoy smaller things in the moment. After this point we see him learn to savour his moments of peace and happiness without overthinking them.
This ability to be fully present and in the moment without judgment is known as mindfulness, and it allows Ippo to be kinder to himself, to take time to do the things that he enjoys, to learn, to find a sense of peace within himself, and to gain a greater level of self-awareness.
He Gradually Rebuilds Himself From the Ground Up
Probably my favourite thing about Ippo’s retirement arc (other than the drastic improvement in art style and fleshing out of the wider cast) is how we’re able to really break down his character.
Through his time away from the ring and his interactions with his wider world, we understand his most basic motivations (or lack thereof), we learn more about his growth over the series but crucially, we also see him come to realize how badly he’s neglected his fundamentals such as his left jab.
It’s also through helping and interacting with others outside of the ring that we see him grapple with the fundamentals of himself as a person; of his past, his health and wellbeing, his relationships, and crucially, his core motivation and personal philosophies.
We know that the secret to Ricardo Martinez’ unbreakable reign as world champion is his mastery and appreciation of his fundamentals and his basics, so it stands to reason that once Ippo re-learns his foundations, it’ll make a huge difference for him.
He Talks to the People Around Him
There’s a really lovely and tragic scene just after Ippo’s final loss where Coach Kamogawa walks him home and for maybe the first time, the two of them talk to each other about something other than the next fight. Sure, the conversation ends up being about boxing because it’s their shared obsession, but it’s striking that we finally see Kamogawa attempt to get to know Ippo as a person, and as Ippo sadly notes, this is only because they both know that this saga of their partnership has come to an end.
This begins a recurring beat throughout this arc where Ippo is able to genuinely talk and connect to the people around him because he now has the time and head space to do so.
He ALMOST has a real conversation with his mother about his time as a boxer and life without his father (more on that later); we actually see him deal with the fact that a small part of him resents Mashiba for blocking his path to fighting Miyata and depriving him of his drive; he makes peace with his former classmates and bullies; and he comes to understand fellow boxers like Kimura, Takamura, Sendō, and Mashiba better.
Ippo manages to have multiple conversations that help to deepen his understanding of both himself and those around him, and this serves a much greater purpose in his healing journey (of course if this were real life, we’d want to include a therapist in that list of people).
So now that we’ve looked at a few facets of Ippo’s journey to healing, the question that remains on the lips of his fans both in-world and out is of course…
What Will Get Ippo Back in the Ring?
Possibly one of the most profound things that Morikawa has accomplished with Ippo’s retirement arc is that he’s re-ignited my desire to see our protagonist fight again.
Through watching the boxing world pine over him, by seeing how the boxers of his generation continue to surpass him yet still hold such reverence for his strength, and by reading on as he slowly gains and re-gains the tools to come back better than ever; we can’t help but wonder just what it will take for Ippo to get back into the ring, and how he’ll fare upon his return. While the story is currently setting Ippo’s rival Sendō up to take on Ricardo Martinez, it’s impossible to notice that even Martinez himself seems to feel the pull of destiny slowly bringing himself and Ippo face to face.
So what exactly will make this happen?
There are three things that stick out to me when considering Ippo’s potential return to boxing.
- He still feels he doesn’t understand what it means to be strong,
- He’s still unable to cross the literal and figurative line to become a “monster”,
- His mother.
There’s a good chance that what pushes Ippo back into the ring could be something as cliche as witnessing one of his friends lose and becoming determined to seek revenge; however, in order for Ippo’s retirement arc to truly feel satisfying, his motivation should be internal. This is why I believe that the answer to unlocking a big step in his healing journey, returning to boxing to take on the world, and finally learning what it means to be strong won’t be found in the ring, but in Ippo’s relationship with his parents.
When discussing what is holding Ippo back from reaching the top, Takamura tells Ippo that in order to do so, he must become “a monster”. Later, after Ippo’s retirement, Takamura remarks that the former won’t return to the ring until he faces his “obligations”.
While becoming a monster evokes a sense of lost humanity, I actually believe that Ippo will achieve this by doing the opposite. In order to become truly unstoppable and achieve true strength, Ippo needs to confront the source of his hesitation and find his own inner drive, but a large obstacle to doing this is his feelings of anxiety, inadequacy, and obligation stemming from his father’s death and mother’s wellbeing.
We know that losing his father at a young age has shaped Ippo’s character in many ways; whether it’s his feelings of weakness, his desire to emulate his father’s strength, and his constant anxiety about not being able to protect his mother, Hiroko, as his father did.
While contemplating how strong her son has become, she thinks back to how Ippo began to feign strength by hiding his negative feelings and pain from her after his father disappeared. With this in mind, although she still can’t bring herself to watch him fight, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the more Ippo shares his pain and frustration from boxing with his mother, the more we see her comment on how strong he’s become, despite not seeing him in the ring where most would see strength.
It stands to reason that as Ippo makes peace with those around him, sharpens his skills, and unwittingly primes himself to take the boxing world by storm, the key event that I believe needs to happen is that Ippo needs to sit down and talk to his mother.
Maybe through talking to her, he’ll realize that he’s been strong all along, or maybe there still won’t be a clear-cut answer to his eternal question, but it’s always felt like a glaring omission that despite all of Ippo’s highs thus far, the most important woman in his life hasn’t been there to cheer him on. What I think will happen, is that Ippo’s mother will gradually become able to watch her son fight, Ippo will gain a level of closure on a matter that’s held him back for his entire life, and he’ll discover a level of inner strength that doesn’t simply come from his ability to take punishment and keep moving.
What Does It Mean to Be Strong?
To me, the true meaning of Ippo’s strength won’t be about taking hits or even about taking the world title. Ippo will have become truly strong because he took time to stop and heal himself; because he honestly reflected on his failures and learned from them; because he found the conviction within himself to strive for a goal without relying on external validation or accolades; and — hopefully after speaking to his mother - because he has learned to show weakness (not just meekness) and rely fully on his support system.
What I truly believe makes Ippo’s retirement arc so special, is that it provides a blueprint for the final answer to the series’ central question, and it’s through experiencing Ippo’s healing that George Morikawa puts forth his theory on what it truly means to be strong.
If there’s anything to learn from this arc in Ippo’s story, it’s that strength that focuses entirely on the external rather than the internal is unsustainable, and in order to truly be strong, we must be kind to ourselves.
