Monday, March 26, 2012

Twice In The Kidneys


Brandy had said she would probably take a little time off from the gym, and she wasn't there Monday night.  The only other woman in attendance besides me was Amy who normally doesn't spar.  Professor, both guys named Paul, Art, and Igor was in attendance.  I had barely started dialing the combination of the lock on my locker when Igor started bugging me about putting his watch inside.  Once again, I grumbled, asking him why doesn't he just leave the watch at home.  I don't know why I bothered wasting my breath.

Young Paul and Alan sparred for a few rounds, and it looked like a wrestling match.  I kept saying, "Break!  Break!"  Alan later explained to Paul: "You kept pushing me back, but I kept holding on.  It was just using up energy."  Alan caught Paul with some shots that caused the younger man to double over a couple of times.  Paul also took a knee at one point.  Paul came out, and I got in.  Igor was mumbling about his watch because he wanted to go.  I made him wait for it.

I'd been used to sparring Brandy, Melinda and Sarah for so long that I forgot how to approach Alan.  I threw some wild punches that turned me around and had me falling up against the ropes.  I got him with an overhand right once, but that was about the only good punch I was able to get in.  Alan backed me up into a corner with a series of straight punches and uppercuts.  I grabbed his arms to stop the onslaught. 

Alan got up against ropes at another moment and got me with a kidney shot.  I fell to the canvas, going, "Ohh!"  Alan helped me back up, and we continued with the round.  Another kidney shot a few minutes later caught me off guard.  Thankfully, the bell rang not too long after that.


Alan and Young Paul got in another round, but with less wrestling this time.  But Paul was hit on the back of his neck, and that round ended quickly.  Alan told him, "I didn't hit you that hard."  I was watching from ringside, holding my side and giving Alan a dubious look.  He always says he doesn't hit hard.  Sometimes, I think Alan doesn't know his own strength.  I know I don't have the time, even when I think I'm pulling punches.  I still remember being surprised after seeing how Ben's face was battered and bruised after he and I sparred several years ago.  I couldn't believe that I had hurt him like that.  My niece Jalissa came with me to the gym not long after that happened.  Mort, who was still going there at the time, told her, "Your aunt kicked that guy's ass!"

Speaking of Mort, I ran into him sometime late last week.  He's doing well, working and finishing up his degree in graphic design.  Mort was proud to hear how JJ had dropped a guy with a left hook during his most recent professional fight.  Mort showed me a picture of his daughter, a cute little three-year-old.


The photo above is of my old Master's boxing license.  There are no fights recorded in it.  I got it back in 2003, several months after I started going to the Loyola Park gym.  Steve, the former coach, tried to get fights for me, but none happened, not even a Park District fight.  While at the Golden Gloves last Friday, Mary turned to me and asked, "Don't you wish you had a fight here?"  "I wish every year," I sighed. When I first got that license, Master's Boxing matches were still included in the Chicago Golden Gloves.  They're not anymore.


I always tell people, "Medical issues don't prevent me from being a coach."  The photo above is of my latest coach's license.  It's time for me to attend another clinic, but they're not held often enough or close to where I can get to them easily.  I really enjoyed the last clinic I attended out in Harvey, Illinois.

Boxing lost another legend, this time Bert Randolph Sugar.  As I write this, the TV is on in the background, tuned to ESPN Classic's "Ringside".  The episode is "Mike Tyson's Greatest Hits, Pt. 2", and Brian Kenny, Teddy Atlas, and Mr. Sugar are analyzing Tyson's career.  I liked Sugar, because he was so knowledgeable about the sport.  I had a chance to meet him once when he came to Chicago to sit at an amateur match.  I believe JJ participated in that event.  It was late spring/early summer, but I was laid up at home with a cold.  My former boss, Les, was always too hard-headed to just stay at home when he got sick.  You know, one of those people who think the whole damn office will fall apart because they're not there.  Les would come to work and infect the whole office.  It never failed; I would catch whatever he had, then I'd be out on my back for two to three days.  Then a few years later, I missed out on still having a full-time job because Les decided to resign, which caused a restructuring of the department we were in.  Instead of being irritated with Les, perhaps I should thank him the next time I see him.  He provided me with a lot of motivation over the years to go hard on the heavy bags after having to spend a lot of eight hour (and more) days with him. 

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