Eric Morante gained a passion for boxing in his youth and even after tragically losing his leg during a tour of Iraq, the US Marine would return to the discipline for the positive physical and mental effects of training. But when his dreams of furthering a professional career in pugilism was taken by the very sport that he loved, Morante vowed to fight on—not just for himself, but for the countless other disabled people who still relish a challenge. With an emotional and inspirational podcast detailing his journey out now, Morante talked to M&F about his biggest obstacles and brightest hopes.
Eric Morante’s story is laid bare in “Defiant,” a six-part miniseries podcast produced by Stak. It’s a story of survival, community, and the power of sport to heal. But Morante’s continuing journey also highlights the struggles that less able-bodied people face while trying to live life to the full.
“Sharing my story has been incredibly therapeutic,” Morante tells M&F. “It’s the most open I’ve ever been, and my hope is that by putting everything out there, the trauma, the rebuilding, the setbacks, the victories… someone listening to ‘Defiant’ will feel a little less alone and a little more willing to keep fighting.”
Eric Morante
U.S. Marine Eric Morante Lost His Leg to a Bomb During Tour of Iraq
On April 20, 2007, the US Marine squad leader had been on his third tour of Iraq while dealing with the loss of his father to a brain tumor. On that dark day, a bomb unleashed 3,000 pounds of explosives underneath a bridge that Morante’s team were guarding, ripping through his right leg and requiring an amputation above his knee. Returning home to Texas, to begin the long road to recovery, there were more than physical injuries to heal. Morante faced ferocious PTSD, opioid dependency, and a suffocating loneliness in the aftermath of Iraq. Losing a leg was bad enough, but losing his purpose as a US Marine led to the darkest of moments. Incredibly, a desire to box again would provide him with a way back to the light.
“There wasn’t one single spark for me,” explains Morante of his recovery. “It was more like a series of moments, where I realized that I had two choices: stay in the darkness or fight my way out. After the blast, after losing my leg, after losing the life in the Marines that I loved, and the grief of losing my father, it felt like I’d been stripped of everything that made me who I am.”
He adds: “For a long time, I didn’t move forward at all. I was angry, isolated, and just trying to make it through each day. But there came a point when I looked at the people around me, my family, the veterans who had survived their own battles, and I realised I owed it to them and to myself, to try. I remembered that I used to be someone who fought for things. I didn’t recognize that man anymore and I wanted him back.”
His tentative return to boxing training provided Morante with much needed structure, healing, and that passion he had so enjoyed while lacing up the gloves in his youth.
Morante’s momentum continued to build and in 2013, he and fellow veterans helped to launch the National Amputee Boxing Association (NABA), a grassroots movement harnessing boxing to combat PTSD and the trauma of limb loss. “Boxing was the first thing that made me feel alive again. I grew up loving the sport, and after the injury, stepping back
into a gym gave me something I didn’t realize I’d been starving for: structure, identity and a mission,” shares Morante. “Physically, boxing forced me to learn my body all over again. I had to figure out balance, movement, how to generate power on one leg, everything was starting from zero. It was humbling, but mentally, that’s where it saved me. Boxing demands presence. You can’t be stuck in the past or worrying about the future while in the ring. It quieted my PTSD and gave me discipline again. Boxing gave me something to chase. It reminded me I was still a fighter.”
The NABA promotion grew from strength-to-strength and at its height gained approval from the Texas Department of Licensing & Regulation. Amputee boxing appeared destined for Paralympic recognition by this point and Morante, the first licensed amputee boxer in America, was even sparring and holding his own with professionals. But in 2019, right before his first officially sanctioned bout against an able-bodied opponent, Morante’s license was suddenly revoked. Had bureaucracy killed his hopes for inclusion in the sport that he loved?
As a result, amputee boxing was effectively shut down, with Morante still searching for answers and trying to come to terms with yet another traumatic loss. “When my license was revoked 30 minutes before a fight I’d trained months for, it felt like the rug had been pulled out from under me all over again,” reflects the fighter. “Not just because of my personal dream, but because it shut the door on an entire community. There were veterans and amputees who finally felt seen, who finally had a competitive outlet and bureaucracy took that away.”
Eric Morante Continues to Improve Lives Through Boxing
Now, inclusivity is one of Morante’s biggest battles. “Making combat sports more inclusive, more informed, fairer, that’s a purpose I take personally,” he tells M&F. “I’ve lived the consequences of the system not knowing what to do with people like me.”
Fortunately, in 2025, Morante is still moving forward. Every week, alongside his friend and fellow amputee, Moses, he teaches boxing to kids with cerebral palsy, veterans with PTSD, those with learning difficulties, and even a blind lady. “My hope is simple,” he shares. “I want to keep changing lives through boxing for anyone who is struggling. I want them to know the gym is a home for them.”
The Paralympic dream may be gone for now, but the worthwhile fight to improve lives through a sport he’s given his all to, goes on. “If the Paralympic dream is gone, that’s OK, there are still thousands of people who can benefit from the same structure and healing that saved me,” explains Morante. “I want to build programs, grow the community, and show the next generation of amputees that they are not limited by what the world thinks they can do.”
