The Loss and the Surprise

Anxiety had been dogging me about tonight's fight at the Loyola Park Boxing Show for most of the week. Alan called me in the middle of the afternoon to say he had fights ready for Jacob and Kenny, but hadn't heard about one for me.  I couldn't get upset about the possibility of not having a fight because it's happened too many times before. It's also part of the game.  My anxiety eased up a bit.  But when I arrived at the field house, Alan informed me, "You're fighting Meg."

Oh, snap, I thought to myself.  I had already lost to Meg twice in 2009.  Before my bout, Alan told me, "Sometimes we get complacent while sparring and training in the gym.  But you have to want to win."  I didn't want to lose a third time to Meg.  But I could not deny that she throws very good and quick punches, and she never lets up. 

Miriam, my stepmom, Alex, a friend from church, and Lorie, a neighbor from up the street were in the audience.  Mike L. also was in attendance, as was Kevin.  Miriam taped my fight, and Colonel was also taping.  He was perched on top of a ladder in the basketball gym where the ring was set up.  Professor, Willie, Tony, and Nate Sr. helped Alan and Barry with the warmups and in the corners.  Melissa also saw the fights.

I met a woman whose name I should have gotten. . .she was a fighter, too.  She came in the gym with Sean, one of the boxing officials (who's also an author of several books about Chicago boxing).  She told me about an all female boxing gym opening up in Westmont soon.  They're going to have an open house.  I would love to go to check it out.  Her and I bemoaned the fact that it's so hard to get fights because of the lack of other female opponents.  Just like me, she also spars with guys when she's at her gym.

I sang the National Anthem, and then the program began.  My bout with Meg was number six.  Jacob and Kenny fought later in the evening.  My anxiety had died down for the most part once I stepped through the ropes onto the canvas.  But once the bell rang, it was all Meg.  I took a good four to five straight shots to my face, and a couple of rough uppercuts.  One of the uppercuts, which I took in the second round, nearly knocked me down.  I stumbled, and cursed to myself, because I know the judges did not miss that.  My hands were down too often, and I caught some hooks, too.  I grabbed Meg's arms in a vain effort to slow her down, but as soon as the referee called, "Break!" she was back to full speed.

The headgear I had on kept slipping.  I wish boxers could wear their own headgear during the matches, but it's against the rules.  I stopped to adjust it after Meg had knocked it sideways on my head in the middle of the third round.  She took advantage of my foolishness and popped me again with a jab.

In between rounds, Alan kept telling me I was doing good, but that I had to go get Meg.  "You want to win, don't you?" he asked.  "Yes," I gasped, but as slow as I was moving, I already knew I was fighting a losing battle.  Tony told me to cut the ring off on Meg, and I really tried, but she was too fast.  The one time I nearly had her, she immediately threw a barrage of punches, and I had to back out or get knocked out.  I lost the match.  The referee told me, "You just ran out of gas at the end."  "You're very good," I told Meg as we hugged.  "You're good, too, lady," she said.

Later, I met her three very polite and very cute kids -- two girls and a boy.  The boy was bearing a box of cookies.  "They always give me cookies after my matches," Meg smiled.  Her son shoved the box at me and said, "Have a cookie!"  It was so funny, and so thoughtful of them.

Bill, Meg's coach, came up to me and asked if I would fight in Hamlin's boxing show in October.  "It's so hard to find fights for Meg," he said.  Meg told me that she was over forty.  Believe me, she doesn't look it.  Another guy who complimented Meg and I on our fight thought her and I were kids; he didn't believe either of us were over forty.  I told Bill how old I will be on my next birthday, and he said, "That's why I said you were an amazing woman."  He told me that when I shook his hand after the match was over. "You're on the computer, you train here, you fight -- you're amazing!" he continued.  I told Bill that I would be happy to come fight at Hamlin.

The guys had better luck than I.  Jacob faced a big guy for his opponent.  By the third round, Jacob was tired out.  But he got some solid body shots in.  I was worried because Jacob seemed to be taking a lot of full on shots to the face from the other guy.  Jacob backed off a bit, but he came right back and hung in there.  The photo below shows Jacob -- with his winner's trophy -- and his girlfriend talking with Alan.

I was busy talking to a lot of people, including my stepmom, Alex, and others, so I missed seeing most of the boys' matches.  But Willie's grandson, who's also named Willie, and Gus both won their matches.

During Kenny's match, there was a very vocal woman who was cheering for his opponent.  "Beat him!  Get him now!" she kept yelling.  A man next to her was cheering for Kenny.  I heard her say in an annoyed tone to that guy, "You can cheer for the red corner (Kenny) if you want, but I'm cheering for the blue corner!"  Alan kept telling Kenny, "Don't wait on him!" as Kenny measured his moves against the guy.  Kenny was popping the guy with jabs all over the place, and was given the winner's trophy. 

Eric fought another young man who's also in the Loyola Park youth boxing program.  Their fight was classified as an exhibition match, so neither of them were given trophies afterwards.  I believe that Eric won.  Willie, seen in the photo below, was in Eric's corner.  Their match was the last one of the evening.

Special awards for sportsmanship and most improved boxer are always given after the last match.  They are usually given to a couple of the kids.  I was distracted, playing around with my camera and looking out for other photo opportunities.  Suddenly, I heard my name being called.  Barry presented me with the sportsmanship award.  I was very surprised.  "You deserve it.  You've been helping out here for so long," Barry smiled.  The award, which is in the shape of a boxing glove, now sits prominently on my desk at home.

My back hurts a little right now.  I'm not sure if it's because Meg hit me there, or because I was twisting and turning earlier moving stuff around my apartment.  Miriam asked me after my match when I was going to stop fighting.  I got a chance to see a playback of what she taped.  Meg beat me because she's in much better shape.  She's a fire fighter, you know.  I'm always struggling to lose weight, plus trying to fight off signs of aging.  "I'll probably do a few more this year, then stop competing, and just stick to coaching and working out," I told her.  I told Alan the same thing.  "You could still do it as long as you're able.  You train regularly," he said. Boxing is addictive.  I know I'll never give it up completely, but I wonder how easily I'll be able to give up the part where I actually mix it up with others in the ring.