Three Rounds

Hayk came in, but had to run back out to pick up his brother.  For about a half-hour after that, I was the only one in the gym, surveying the damage. 

A water pipe had burst earlier.  The field house staff did their best to stop the flow, but plumbers will have to come in and do a more permanent solution.  Barry had a lot of vintage boxing memorabilia, mostly posters, over in the area by the coach's desk.  Only a few posters could be saved; the rest were damaged and had to be thrown away.  The coach's desk, a file cabinet, and the lockers had been pulled away from the wall.  Luckily, there was no water seepage into my locker.

Jamil came in about a few minutes before Alan, who had called Mary earlier to say he would be late.  Jamil and I sparred for three rounds, and it was tough.  Jamil is a southpaw, and Alan kept telling me to throw rights instead of constantly leading with my left jab all the time.  I was usually able to catch Jamil in corners, where I would try to follow Alan's instructions to "work the sides, then go up to the head, and throw some uppercuts". 

The usual hot flashes showed up after the sparring was over.  Alan laughed because I had picked up the box fan and put it right next to my face.  "From now on, you have to do three rounds or more during sparring," he said.  "Okay," I gasped, still trying to catch my breath.  There was a time when I regularly did three or more rounds, but somewhere over the years, I slowed down.  I'm gonna have to pick up that pace again.  I won't be fighting this Saturday at the boxing show that Yale has going, but most likely, I'll be fighting at Brooks Park next month.

Danny came in even later. When 9:00 rolled around, Alan announced that it was time to go.  However, Danny was in the back of the ring, using a medicine ball.  "Come on, Danny, we gotta go!  Why do you come in so late?" Alan said.  "I only live two blocks away," Danny grinned.