The Long Welcomed Loss

Johnny, Oscar and I sat in the boxing gym, as the activities of Loyola Park's annual boxing show swirled around us.  "I'm worried that I might not get a match.  My friends are going to to be mad if they show up tonight, and I'm not fighting!" Johnny said.  "Make it up to them, and take them out for drinks," I smiled.  If Jamil had showed up, Johnny could have been matched up with him.  Unfortunately, there were no opponents for Johnny last night. 

Oscar had a fight lined up early on, but it was canceled for reasons that I'm not sure about.  I think the guy he was going to fight ended up in a match with someone else.  However, Bill and Alan came up with an opponent for Oscar to fight at Hamlin Park's upcoming boxing show.

Ieisha arrived a little later.  At that time, it was still unclear whether her or I would have a fight that evening.  Alan was in another room, working it out with Bill.  Most of the youngsters from Loyola were already matched up, including Diego, Kenny, Gus, Marquis, and Ed (Man-Man).  There was a woman who came inside the gym earlier, looking around.  I wondered if she was one of Bill's fighters. Several moments later, I learned that she was Meg, the fire fighter that Alan had told me about earlier.  Alan and Bill decided that she would make a better match  for me instead of Ieisha, due to the fact that we were roughly the same height.  "We don't want you two to tear each other's heads off, but mix it up a little," Bill said.  Meg and I shook hands.

An anxiety attack began to slowly swell up inside me, which put a bit of a damper on the fact that I finally had a match.  "Why am I nervous?  I've sparred many times.  This is just one notch up from that," I thought.  The butterflies in my stomach flittered even faster as it dawned on me that Meg was from Hamlin.  Bill, the coach over there, has a rep for turning out what people have called, "the Hamlin killers". 

I sang the National Anthem, dressed in my boxing shorts and the latest jersey printed for the night's event.  It wasn't until later I noticed the wrong date -- September 26 instead of September 25 -- was on it.  I sang the song a little higher than I meant to do, but people seemed to appreciate it.  "I'm impressed.  I didn't know that you sing," Alan grinned. 

Alan and I worked the punch mitts a couple of matches before mine.  "Hit harder," Alan ordered as I threw jabs into the pads.  After I did so, Alan commented, "Shit, Hillari, I know you can hit hard.  Why don't you do that when you spar?"  I explained my rule on not hitting the other women hard because most of them don't have any fighting experience at all.  "I understand that you don't want to hurt people unnecessarily, but you've got to get their respect in the ring."  He put Vaseline on my face.  I had already wrapped my hands. 

Carlos had a match, too that night.  His son Justin was there, and I caught sight of Carlos' wife holding a cute baby boy.  I learned that Carlos has a second son named Jacob.  Alan gathered both Carlos and I.  "In between rounds, I want you to sit on the stool with your legs apart, and your hands down.  Take deep breaths and don't talk.  Let me do all of the talking," he instructed us.  Carlos would unfortunately lose his fight, as did most of the Loyola boxers that night.  I felt that little Marquis was robbed of a win, however.  I thought Diego should have been given the decision in his fight, too.  Ed and Kenny won their matches easily. 

Many people asked me if I was nervous.  "A little," I said, playing off the real terror I was feeling.  "It's good that you're nervous," Alan said, "because it keeps you on edge and alert.  Once you get inside the ring, it'll go away."  Kitchen, whom I hadn't seen in awhile, was surprised to hear I was fighting.  "Oh, this I've got to see," he said.  JJ was also at the show; he helped Barry in the corner.

Shifty was the referee for mine and Meg's match.  "Obey my commands at all times.  When I say stop, you stop.  Touch 'em up," he said, and Meg and I touched gloves.  Suddenly, she looked a lot bigger than she did when we met down the hall in the gym.  The bell rang, and I did my best to wait for her to throw punches before I countered with something.  It wasn't easy, despite the fact that we had a minute and a half rounds to work with.  Meg scored with several hits to my face, head and body.

During the second round, I heard a kid tell me, "You're losing this match!"  "Tell me something that I don't know," I thought to myself.  I just was not getting in close enough to make a difference.  Plus, my headgear kept slipping because I didn't have it on tight enough.  I didn't use mine, but the headgear that the Park District provided.  I quickly put it right when it did, avoiding having a time out so Alan could fix it.  I could hear him calling out instructions to me, as well as Meg's corner giving her pointers.  The audience, with the exception of comments I caught here and there, was like one big blur of sound.

Amazingly, I kept cool throughout.  A lot of people complimented me on the fact that I kept my composure.  The bell rang to end the third round, and I immediately went over to Alan to have him pull my gloves and headgear off.  I then walked over to shake the hand of Meg, Bill, and the guy who was assisting Bill in the corner.  Both men said I did a good job.  Back in the center of the ring, Shifty raised both mine and Meg's arms, but I knew that she won, and I was correct.  "You were really good!  We'll have to work together again!" Meg said after the decision was given.  Bill said that she and I could have a rematch at the Hamlin show.

I was not upset that I lost.  In fact, I figured that I would.  Most boxers lose their first fights.  But I was the happiest little woman in Chicago because of the fact that after nearly nine years, I finally got a chance to actually have a fight.  "You've lost your ring virginity," Alan grinned.