One of my most memorable Bruce Springsteen songs is one that few have heard. It is from the fairly recent album “Devils and Dust” and the song it titled The Hitter.
The Hitter takes place with an aging boxer knocking on his mother’s locked door. He hasn’t seen his mother in years–not since he was sent out of town at a young age to escape the law. The Hitter isn’t returning home to ask for money or to move back in. As he explains, he is just tired and needs to rest in a comforting place.
Come to the door, Ma, and unlock the chain
I was just passin’ through and got caught in the rain
There’s nothin’ I want, nothin’ that you need say
Just let me lie down for a while and then I’ll be on my way
To help his mom understand, he reflects on the time he last saw his mom.
I was no more than a kid when you put me on the Southern Queen
With the police on my back I fled to New Orleans
I fought in the dockyards and with the money that I made
And the fight was my home and any blood was my trade
It turned out he was quite the boxer. Not only did it pay the bills, but he enjoyed beating up on other men.
Baton Rouge, Ponchatoula, and La Fayette town
Well they paid me the moon, Ma, to knock the men down
I did what I did, when it come easily
Restraint and mercy were always strangers to me
Eventually, he made it to the championship fight. It was a tough fight, but even with a broken jaw he pressed on. And he prevailed…
I fought champion Jack Thompson in a field full of mud
Rain poured through the tent to the canvas and mixed with our blood
In the twelfth, I slipped my tongue over my broken jaw
And I stood over him, pounded his blooded body into the floor
Well the bell rang and rang, still I kept on
‘Til I felt my glove leather slip ‘tween his skin and bone
And then he enjoyed the spoils of being the champ. But even as he did, he knew he was a play-thing for the rich guys–but he was fine with what he received in return.
And the women and the money came fast, in the days I lost track
The women red, the money green, but the numbers were black
I fought for the men in their silk suits to lay down their bets
Well I took my good share, Ma, and I had no regret
When the rich guys were ready to move, our champ eyed the payoff and went along with the fix.
I took the fixed staid hombre with Big Diamond Don
From high in the rafters I watched myself fall
So he raised his arms, my stomach twisted, and the sky it went black
I stuffed my bag with their good money, and I never looked back
Worried his mom might see it different, the Hitter explained his choice to her:
Understand me, and Ma, every man plays a game
If you know anyone different, then speak out his name
As he talks through the door, he is not sure his mom even recognizes his voice–and if he gets her to open the door, he is not sure she’ll recognize his face either. He has been through a tough life. So he tells her to look into his eyes–and in those she will recognize to be the same as her own.
Well Ma, if my voice, now you don’t recognize
And just open the door and look into your dark eyes
He is proud and independent. He doesn’t want his mom to misunderstand his intentions. He doesn’t want her to have any regrets nor does he want her to see any of his frailties. So he reminds her that he is not seeking anything, not even an “I love you”. He just needs to return to the home he grew up in, lay down in the bed he slept in when he was young and innocent, and then he’d be ready to continue on.
I ask of you nothin’, not a kiss, not a smile
Just open the door and let me lie down for a while
The Hitter’s best days are behind him and he knows it. But fighting is all he knows. He is tough and lives with something he still needs to prove, though he is not sure to who. Perhaps only to those who are like him–who think they are tougher and who too have a checkered past.
Now the grey rain is fallin’ and my ring fighting’s done
So in the work fields and alleys, I take them who’ll come
If you’re a better man than me then just step to the line
And show me your money and speak out your crime
Well tonight in the shipyard, a man draws a circle in the dirt
Like I always do, I move to the centre and I take off my shirt
I study him for the cuts, the scars, the pain man no time can erase
I move hard to the left and I strike to the face
If you are a Springsteen fan and haven’t heard this song, consider yourself lucky–as when you do, you are in for a treat.