Fencing doesn’t get much face time, even though there’s an allure to it from the outside because of its romantic, swashbuckling image. But actual competitive fencing requires an extremely good eye and a deep understanding of the sport. It happens at lightning speed, and requires a mental focus that few possess.

So a story about fencing in GQ in anticipation of the Olympics is kind of a big deal. Except the writer demonstrates no grasp of fencing, not that he lets his woeful ignorance of the sport influence his arrogance. But far worse is that he found the hook for his fencing story in one of the epees who will represented the United States at the Olympics, Curtis McDowald.

To me, Curtis’s YouTube clips seem like they should be highlight reels, but the comments about his exuberance on the strip and banter with the referees that appear beneath put me in the minority. One commenter fears the South Jamaica, Queens product will make the sport “Go the way of the NBA”—no euphemism here—“full of disrespectful trash players.” Another expresses his pride in—seriously—“the refs for standing up to him.” Where else have you ever seen fans identify with the refs more than the players?

But this is fencing, where being a Black man in a white sport, and a demonstrative guy in a quiet one, interlock into a sort of existential affront to fencing’s stodgy culture. Maybe in an alternate universe, he’s a fiery competitor like Russell Westbrook. Here, he’s Curtis, the surly malcontent.

I knew Curtis when he was a young fencer. He was pretty good, although he’s obviously gotten much better since then. But he was a smart, nice, friendly and respectful kid, which wasn’t unusual as these are the normal characteristics of people who become competitive fencers. You might find the word “respectful” somewhat surprising in there, but that’s only because of a lack of familiarity with fencing.

Fencing is a sport of competitive respect. Before and after each bout, fencers are required to remove their mask and salute, with their weapon, their opponent. And for the most part, it’s sincere respect, as the fencing world is fairly small and fencers know each other, train together, fence each other over and over, and when training or a competition is over, hang out with each other. They fence for the win, but they’re brothers and sisters otherwise.

But it’s no white sport. Here’s the irony, if not the stunning ignorance, of the article. The US Team is made up of three epee fencers, Yeisser Ramirez, Jake Hoyle and Curtis. Fencers are linked to their clubs, where they train, and Curtis’ was the Peter Westbrook, which shares the Fencers Club. Westbrook, a six-time Olympian fencer, founded it to promote fencing to underserved communities in New York, and it’s been fabulously successful at its mission. Of the 12 fencers on this year’s US Olympic team, it’s produced four, and all four are black.

And nobody in fencing would have been at all surprised by this, because these are great fencers, which is the only thing anyone cared about. And they are by no means the only fencers of color, where diverse races, religions and ethnicities fenced side by side. So what purpose is served by trying to foment some sort of asinine race war out of a sport where race didn’t mean anything if your tip touched your opponent first?

“How many good African-American fencers are there?” Curtis asks me.*

To start, I say, there’s Ibtihaj Muhammad, the star of the 2016 games, who won bronze while competing in hijab. Daryl Homer, the men’s sabreist, won silver five years ago and will compete again this year. And on Curtis’ own épeé team is Yeisser Ramirez, a sturdy Cuban American whose ferocity on the strip and Charizard wingspan helped him clinch him a spot. In other words, Curtis is just the latest character in a burgeoning movement of elite Black fencers competing on the sport’s most prominent stage.

These are just the Olympians. The list is long, and even NYT columnist Charles Blow’s daughter is on it, an excellent foil fencer who took first place at the Fencers Club High School Invitational the year my son took first place in epee, beating Ayyub Ibrahim in the finals to win the silver trophy.**

“I’m not rare,” Curtis says. “I’m really not.” That may read triumphant—the Black fencer, no longer a rarity!—but Curtis sounds exasperated. I don’t blame him.

No, it means he’s not rare because he’s not rare, not whatever delusion the writer chooses to project into others. But Curtis caught some crap in his early years for taking the fencing bag of Miles Chamley-Watson (who is also black and won Bronz in Rio in 2016). The writer says it was the sort of thing that happened all the time. It wasn’t. Nobody did that. The punishment imposed by Fencers Club seemed severe, but then fencers didn’t steal other fencers bags.

But now, it seems that Curtis has had issues on the strip.

Then, he rips off his protective helmet and lets out a roar that resounds in every pocket of the club—the kind of noise that might make Curtis the most exciting young fencer in a generation, but that also draws the ire of the sport’s old guard, crusty fans of an ancient, insular sport. Now, fencing at its highest level is full of emotion like any sport, and Curtis is far from the first to bicker with a referee when he thinks they blew it. But Curtis’ heightened intensity is a blessing.

There were occasional screamers, mask throwers, arguers, long before Curtis, and they received the red cards, then black cards they deserved. And they got them regardless of their skin color. Trying to trivialize this lack of respect for the rules, the fencers and the referees reflects the writers stunning ignorance. Trying to manufacture some claim of emotion and personality is nonsense. Trying to make this about race is a lie.

There is a promo video of Curtis online. The comments to it are strong, and completely correct. Trying to call this personality is playing those who are either too clueless or gullible. This isn’t trash talk in pro wrestling, but fencing. If Curtis behaves this way in the Olympics, he will be black-carded and disqualified, and he should be.

But I suspect he knows better, and will show the respect that’s an integral part of fencing, because Curtis is a smart, nice, friendly and respectful kid, no matter how the writer of this garbage take tries to spin it. I wish Curtis the very best of luck in the Olympics and hope he joins the many other black fencers who brought home an Olympic medal.

*At another point, it’s noted that there are quite a few black fencers, but there are few black coaches. There are few coaches who aren’t Russian (many of whom barely speak comprehensible English), actually, because they have college-level coach training degrees which we don’t, and coaching isn’t exactly a high paying job so it’s not as if people are desperately trying to score the position.

**After saluting each other and the ref at the end of the finals, my son and Ayyub hugged each other, my son telling Ayyub, “this time, the best fencer didn’t win.” I joined them and we all hugged each other because that’s how fencers (and fencing parents) roll.