At the time of Rocky Marciano and Cassius Clay, some hurried to label the box as the "noble art", asserting that what the pugilists do in the ring often transforms into a show and that the skill to avoid a bewildering uppercut, to use your set of feet or to surprise your adversary with a blow is nothing less than, let's say, the talent of a ballet dancer or an actor. Approaching to present, the so-called "art of pugilism" transformed into the cannibalistic show presented by Mike Tyson when biting his rival's ear or into the pathetic parody offered by some failed boxers, ready to mimic a real fight and to artistically faint in front of the cameras for some hundreds dollars, in order to rise the adversary's quota. The Romanian boxers don't make headlines out of it. The scandals related to their names are much more "human" and they take place off the ring. Cristian Hodorogea from Iasi, a multiple national champion in professional box, became famous only after he left the country looking for a better life in the West. Maybe his case wouldn't have aroused much interest if the "escape" were not related to the case of the more famous Toni Badea and the match in London. The only Romanian invited to dispute a match within the same gala was Hodorogea, who didn't got to the ring any more, "melted" in the London crowd on the first occasion. His intimates say that he went for it trying to find a job in England and to help thus his family home. A fact we could not condemn, if we think that Hodorogea, a worthy boxer, was living with his wife and two kids in one room, with a monthly wage of one million and a half lei (a little more than 50 dollars). Could anyone condemn him, given the circumstances, that he had profited by the (rare) chance of an escape in the Occident, without gloves, in an attempt to find a job better paid than in Romania? Probably not. The ones who know him say t