Thursday, March 14, 2013

Squeals and A Shooting

Andre One (who has trained at Evanston Boxing Gym) was in the gym when I arrived.  Later, Alan told me their conversation had been a little heated before I got there.  Andre One wants to train at Loyola Park, but he hasn't paid the fee.  Alan explained that he just can't him come in and spar, or train for that matter, because of Chicago Park District rules regarding payment and liability issues.

Andre One stuck around for a little while before deciding to come back and pay when the spring sessions begins in April.  Before he left he told me another guy I hadn't seen for awhile in the gym - Anthony - had been shot some time ago.  Anthony took six bullets.  Another guy near him who also took some bullets when the guns went off didn't make it.  Anthony was able to go home from the hospital a few days later; I was glad to hear that he was still among the living.  I'm not against people owning guns, but I wish so many guns were not in the wrong hands.

In this photo, Reygie and Kenny listen to instruction from Alan before their sparring session. Once again, Reygie participated in multiple sparring rounds.

He also sparred with Walter, who had a pair of green boxing gloves on.  I've seen gloves in lots of colors, but never in that bright a shade of green.

Reygie wanted to come in on Monday, but his knee was bothering him after playing a long session of basketball over the weekend.  The only thing he could do was to ice it up.  Reygie's injury reminded me of when Pastor Roger told me why he opted out of playing football as a teen.  The pastor had been around a group of guys who were his age at the time, early to mid 30s, who were already suffering the effects of the bumps and bruises they had sustained from being athletes when they were younger.  Pastor took one look and decided he'd made a good decision not to play on a team.  But, you know, those are the chances those who participate in a sport take.  I may be on a cane by the time I'm sixty, but I won't regret the time I spent boxing.

Vachel and I sparred again, and this time, we went a little harder.  But I let her get more hits in, and I held back on throwing very hard.  The last thing I wanted to do was to knock her out, especially since she is getting used to being in the ring.

Each time I landed punches, Vachel would squeal and retreat.  In between the second and third rounds, Alan told her, "You can't let your opponent know you've been hurt by making noise!"  During the third round, Vachel started squealing again.  "Don't make noise!" Alan repeated.  

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