Saturday, April 16, 2016
A Lucky Punch
Brenan and Jermaine sparred yesterday, and poor Brenan got the the worst of it. Brenan is shorter and smaller than Jermaine. But that doesn't mean that Jermaine did very well. I fear that Jermaine's hard-headed ways regarding training properly is going to cost him in a fight down the line. He just happened to get in a lucky punch on Brenan, knocking the smaller boy to the ground.
A trickle of blood came out of Brenan's nose, and his dad -- who is very helpful in the gym, by the way -- got paper towels to clean him up. The next time Jermaine punched Brenan was it. Brenan was on one knee, leaning on the ropes and crying.
I didn't like Jermaine's boasting after wards, so I let him know I thought he could and should have done better. "But did I do good?" he asked. "Not in comparison to the other kids who box in the park district," I answered. We worked on the punch mitts later, but Jermaine still wasn't taking any of it seriously. I guess the only way the kid is going to learn is when he gets a park district fight later this summer. But then it will too late for Jermaine to realize that he should have listened to me and put in more work in the gym.
I have a new adult student. I'm not going to spell her name right at this point, so for now, I'm just going to shorten her name -- Nay. She wanted to go straight to sparring. That was a no can do situation since she still has to learn the punches and footwork. Plus, there was no one for her to spar with as the other adults didn't come in. I wasn't going to spar with her. The cold I had last week has eased into my lungs, still trying to hang on. Also, I was tired from having gone around with the youths. I found out that her son is Kaevon, who used to be in the boxing class several sessions back.
Finally, I mopped down the exercise mat that is on the floor in the gym. It hadn't been cleaned for a long, long time. The attendants clean the gym floor and the nearby washrooms. They don't touch the ring nor the mat, so I take it upon myself to do that. I joked to myself that the mat and the ring were getting cleaned more than my apartment has been. Actually, I shouldn't have found that funny. But then, I never aspired to be a housewife.
Labels:
amateur boxing,
boxing,
Chicago,
sparring,
youth boxing
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