A metal fan hummed in the background as the steady whipping of jump ropes could be heard hitting the floor.

Located in the unknown depths of the White Building, shadows reflected off the tile floor of Room 52 as the bandaged hands of each boxer went back and forth, left to right, moving with smooth repetition through the air. The eyes of the men were glaring and focused on perfecting each swing of the fists, while mirrors hung on the left and back walls instructed each boxer on what part of his routine was flawed.

"I've seen guys completely exhausted on their first fight in their first round because of the rush they get out of it," said Jack Rohrabaugh, the coach of the Penn State boxing club.

"There's a lot here, it's just that there's nothing to take home in your hand; you take it home in your heart."

Junior Jamie Sanfilippo remembered watching boxing on TV when the urge to fight took hold of her. She said to herself, "I could do that. It doesn't look too bad."

Sanfilippo decided then to stop playing softball and join the team. Although she acknowledged that the sport is a lot harder than it first seemed, she is at the point now where she has gotten used to the pain.

"A lot of guys quit actually. They got hit a couple times and they were like, 'This is not for me; this is not what I want to do,' " said Sanfilippo, who was sporting a boxing hoody. "You don't really feel the punches that much, but you just gotta stay in there -- you just keep focused."

Like Sanfilippo, Rohrabaugh also knows what it means to be a fighter. Before he coached at Penn State, he was a boxer in the Marines.

Aside from being a Marine, Rohrabaugh admits that being a boxer was the hardest thing he had ever done.

After 12 bouts, Rohrabaugh knew it was time to quit.

He could not deal with the constant pain.

"It's an emotional thing, and it's kinda like, stepping across that line is when you prove to yourself that you don't have anything else to prove," Rohrabaugh said, stopping in mid-sentence and staring into thin air. "You know the old saying, right? You can play basketball, you can play football, you can play baseball -- but you don't play boxing."

The fighters continue to jump rope as Mark Roniet stands at the right side of the room preparing to warm up. He knows what the violence of the sport entails, but the competitiveness overrides it. He acknowledges that the sport looks like two people pounding each other on the surface, but it's more than what meets the eye.

He knows it's not about getting hit or hitting the other guy. It's about avoiding the hit. It's about taking the punches and adapting to them. As he ponders how to put into perspective the boxing attitude, he smiles, looks up and recalls the words of Muhammad Ali.

"Ali said, 'Girls don't like seeing blood so I don't get hit,' " Roniet said. "The skill is good, but the will has to be stronger. You have to want to stay in the ring."

Most of the boxers have now left the cramped room, except for a few. One of them is A.J. Williams, who is still intently gazing into the mirror. The Bethany Hill native recalls how his parents didn't care too much for his decision to box, but once he first put on the gloves, he knew he could be good.

Williams was the only club boxer to compete in the national championships this year. He remembers how he tried his own "wild" style in his first match this year and lost. He attempted to bounce back in his second fight when he went up against the No. 3 collegiate boxer in the country.

He lost, but he considers himself to be a contender next year. He knows that boxing deals a lot with your pride. He knows it's about how you get back up after you have fallen.

"I've been knocked down before," said Williams, as he wraps his left hand in a yellow bandage. "But, your heart takes over your body and then you just keep going and fight through the pain."

Williams now takes the ring with junior fighter Rob Burns. The intention is not to hit each other, but to improve on footwork and dodging.

The fighters move swiftly around the ring, almost as if they are dancing to their own tune. They stop after a while for a breather and then go back into the center of the ring. The simulated fight is not all that important, but they use the opportunity to further their abilities.

It's sometimes hard to imagine why a boxer fights, but another club member, junior Jon Diberardino, knows exactly why he is training to get back to boxing after dislocating his shoulder in the fall.

"Ever since I first stepped into the ring, man, I've realized that getting hit in the face is just cleansing -- it just cleanses you," said Diberardino, as music echoes in the background. "I mean it's a wake-up call, it just gets your adrenaline pumping immediately, and it's a helluva experience."