Hustling At Harrison

I had reminded Henry and David's dad about the boxing show at Harrison Park some time ago.  Unfortunately, the boys were no-shows, and there were kids there with whom they could have had a fight.  Having La Follette's gym being shut prematurely due to window installation plus the fact that we're now on a break until the fall session begins has made it difficult to keep in touch with people about the ongoing boxing shows.  I was judging fights again as I had no fighters present.

I noticed there is construction going on at Harrison Park as well.  I felt their pain.  There was a good turnout for the boxing show, however.  There were 12 fights instead of the usual ten, but the action went quickly.  The fights took place in a basketball gym inside the field house.  Usually, that show is held on the outside, but the construction I saw may have been the cause for the change in location. 

During one of the earlier fights of the evening, I thought both boys did a great job.  But one boy did a little bit more than the other one, so he won the fight.  The boy who didn't win took his trophy and no sooner than he stepped out of the ring, the boy was blubbering.  I always feel bad when I see that.  Sometimes when I see kids crying because they lost, I feel like crying with them.  I looked for that boy later to give him some encouragement but he must have left the park quickly.

Solomon, who fights out of Loyola Park, won his fight against a boy from Garfield Park, which was no easy feat.  The fighter from Garfield Park won the first round against Solomon, popping him with several punches.  During the next two rounds, Solomon carefully watched the other guy and picked his shots.

While sitting at one of the judges' tables, I imagined what it would have been like if my late younger sister was sitting next to me.  I've mentioned before that while she liked the ideas of beating on people, she wasn't crazy about me being involved in the sport.  She might have enjoyed watching the action close up like that, however.  Then I imagined my late mother sitting next to me at the table.  She wasn't supportive of me fighting.  Ma probably would have criticized everything that went on during the show, despite the fact that she had an appreciation for the sport.