Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Little Man Returns

Carlos came in, followed by Justin.  "What did you get for Christmas?" I asked. The five-year old showed me a hand-held video game.  His dad had brought him some new games to play on it.  "Do you read 'Dick and Jane' in school?" I asked Justin.  He shook his head, indicating that he had never heard of the series.  I guess a lot of things don't happen in Kindergarten like they did when I was there.  Justin had the day off from school because of the Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday.

Neither Jenay or Oksana came in; maybe they thought the gym was closed due to the holiday.  I had to call myself to check if the place would be open.  Cynthia answered the phone and confirmed that the field house would be hope during its regular hours.

Long and tall Kevin returned to the gym.  He told me that he wanted to get some more training before he came back to Loyola Park.  Alan was talking to him, Carlos, Jeremy and Jamil about the Golden Gloves.  Carlos and Jamil would like to compete there, but they're still not sure.  Alan told Carlos, "There are other guys who'll be there who are heavyweights.  You have the stamina, and you won't get knocked out.  You could handle them."  He reminded Carlos that he needs to get his weight down.  I thought to myself, "I need to get mine down, too, and I'm not off to a good start."  I've been ordering too many chopped steak deluxe meals from JB Alberto's lately.

I sparred with Alan, giving him a good shot to the stomach starting out.   "I was thinking that my right hand came out too hard at one point.  Didn't you hear me say I was sorry?" he asked after we completed our rounds.  "No, but you did get me in the eye," I grinned.  My left eye always seems to be a magnet for other people's punches during sparring. 

While he drove me home, I asked Alan if he goes to temple in the city or in the suburbs.  He explained that he attends service at a home near his house.  I thought to myself that I had heard of churches that met in people's homes, but never a synagogue.  But then, that is not out of the ordinary.  I seem to remember stories about people meeting in small groups in the Bible.  "They serve lunch afterwards, but I don't usually stay because I go to work.  I know I'm not supposed to work on the Sabbath," he grinned, "but I haven't gotten to that point yet."  "We all have to work out our own salvation," I said. 

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