Wednesday, March 09, 2016
Earl and TJ's Modus Operandi
One of the attendants at LaFollette Park shook his head when he saw the boxing equipment room (in the above photo). It has now been painted white, but it was apparent to him that the paint job should have never taken this long to get done. I agreed. There wasn't that much to paint. I was wishing they had asked my opinion regarding what color the room should have been painted. Judging by the constant dust and debris there, I certainly would not have chose white as the color. The painters dragged the job out unnecessarily, and now it appears they will take their time removing the paint and other equipment out of that room, too.
Just as sure as Roger Bolander, Virginia Johnson Bolander, Terry Murphy, and Ken Doering are abject failures as human beings (see previous posts), Earl came in with yet another excuse as to why he couldn't spar. "Uh-huh", I said, opting not to comment any further. TJ also had one. "I ate too much junk food and forgot I had to go to boxing today," he said. Jaylin won't spar with the smaller boys because of fear of hurting them. I had sparred at Loyola Park the night before, so I didn't want to spar with Jaylin, so no sparring took place.
I replaced the air pump that had been stolen. I now keep it locked up with the sparring gloves. After putting air into the speed bags, I noticed that the one my friend Donna gave me has to be replaced. It keeps leaking out air. Looks like that's something else I will have to pay for out of my pocket. The equipment budget for the gym is already too small to get everything for which I asked.
Marty at Simons Park returned my call on the field house phone, but I didn't get the message until after I closed the gym. Marty must have been already gone, because when I called back, the answering machine at his field house picked up. I'm really interested in having Marty bring his fighters over to LaFollette for the open sparring session I've planned for next month. Simons Park is very close to LaFollette, and Marty has always been supportive of me from the get-go.
My right wrist was bothering me. I had sprained it several years ago due to not using a properly padded set of bag gloves. The first thing I thought was, "I hope this doesn't mean arthritis." My late mother had a little bit of arthritis in her hands, and my oldest aunt -- who is now 90 years old -- really has a tough time with it in various joints. Being an aging coach/fighter is a trip, but I just have to keep it moving.