Calmer Times At Simons Park

The boxing show at Simons Park was a much more pleasant experience than what I experienced there last year.  I still get irritated when I think about De-Fetrick's ugly meltdown and the fact the guy walked off with the athletic cup I lent him for his fight.

None of my fighters were there, which was just as well.  The only two who were qualified to go would have been James and Donovan.  KeVonte has some skills, but the kid's attendance has become sporadic.  KeVonte also has a major problem with following and taking direction.  Maz hasn't been back since his bike was stolen the last time he attended class. Some of the kids, like Kewan for example, have taken to showing up late and leaving early if they show up at all.

I spent part of the time at the boxing show working the corner of Jamal, a boy who fights out of Taylor Park.  There was no one from his park to help him out; I don't know why.  Jamal did not win his fight, but he put on a good showing.  I was surprised when the kid who beat Jamal came over to the corner after to fight to shake my hand.  "Thank you!" I told him as I shook his hand.  Sometimes, the boxers in the other corners don't acknowledge me afterward.  I was appreciative of the fact that kid did.

The latter part of the show I spent judging the remaining fights.  The main event was between two adults, a couple of heavyweights named Don and Johnny.   Johnny kept waiting too long on Don to make moves.  Don stepped up and the majority of the punches were on target.  Johnny was clinching Don a lot.  The unanimous decision went to Don.

Friday is sparring day.  I didn't allow any sparring this past Wednesday because the only person prepared to spar was James.  Donovan didn't come in and Jaymerson is not allowed to spar.  As for the other kids, they all showed up late with no explanations nor apologies.  Now I have put down a new law:  when people show up late, they don't get to spar that day.

When There Isn't A Win

When Andre won the super heavyweight trophy in this year's Chicago Golden Gloves, I was very happy.  It always feels good to be in the winner's corner.  But what if the decision has been given to the other fighter?
Like Barry once said, "It's hard to know what to say to the fighter who lost."

A lot of what can and should be said will depend on the mood of the fighter.  If they say something along the lines of, "Eh, I should have did this or that, I should have been more focused.  I messed up.  I'll have to work on my skills in the gym," then some gentle constructive criticism may be offered.  It will be heard.

But if a fighter is angry, different approaches have to be done.  The fighter could be justified about their feelings if the decision was clearly a bad call by the referee, the judges, or both.  Assurances should be made that the fighter did their best in the ring, but also emphasis the importance of not leaving the outcome entirely in the judges and officials' hands.  If the loss because of a fighter having not trained enough, not given their all, etc., immediately after the fight may not be the time to point those facts out.  Let them cool off.  But the very next time they come into the gym, go over what went wrong, and work with them to correct those things.

Recently, Alan was telling someone, Geniece, I think, about what happens at the Chicago Park District boxing shows.  He told her that the referees are quick to stop fights at any sign of trouble.  I told her how Alan had stopped a fight between Meg and I a few years ago.  "She never lets me forget that," Alan said.  I was angry when that happened, but over time I realized that Alan was right in what he did.  I was taking too many punches from Meg and not answering them.  However, it can be a touchy situation when the coach stops a fight.  There may be some frost going on between the fighter and the coach afterwards for awhile.  But the lines of communication have to kept open so the situation can be worked through and resolved so they can be a team again.

Above all, the main message should be that there will be another time to fight.

Better To Walk Out Than To Be Carried Out

Another friend in the boxing world, Lisa Creech Bledsoe, who runs a blog called The Glowing Edge, posted the fight above on her blog and commented on it.  This was a fight between Holly Holm and Anne Sophie Mathis.  I agreed with Lisa's assessment of how badly this bout was handled by Holm's corner as well as the referee.

Francisco Rodriguez died in the ring around Thanksgiving in 2009, and the month before, Rita Figueroa suffered a near-fatal hit during a match.  Both of those professional fights happened near the tail end of the Chicago Park District's amateur boxing tournament season.  I remember a lot of fights I saw after that were stopped at the first hint of a boxer being in trouble.  I was in a fight with Meg in December of that year that was stopped because I was taking too many hits.  People complain about fights being stopped all the time, as the one between Holm and Mathis was, eventually.  Blood lust gets the best of some spectators, and they just want to see someone stomped down.

I like to see a good beat down as much as the next person.  I cheer on the antics of professional wrestlers, despite the fact that the outcomes of all those type of matches were planned long before the wrestlers came into the ring (but pro wrestlers can and do get hurt for real sometimes. . .some have even died due to injuries).  When my siblings and I were kids, we'd fall out laughing at the fisticuffs between roller derby players, some of which were fake, and some of which were real.  I appreciate the moves I see in MMA.  I only pay attention to mainstream sports when I've heard that a brawl broke out on the playing field. 

However, I'd rather see a boxer walk out of the ring after a match than be carried out.  I usually don't bat an eye at the brutality in some matches, but the Holm/Mathis had me wincing.

As I watched the post-fight interview, I felt bad for Holm.  I even got -- and this is something I seldom admit to, folks -- teary-eyed.  I know the feeling of being on the losing end of a match, feeling embarrassed, frustrated, and angry about "Damn, I wish I could have done better!", while still trying to exhibit good sportsmanship.  I know we should all be adults about losing, but I sometimes go back to being that little girl on the schoolyard who just took a beating from two or more kids (which I did on a near daily basis back in grade school).  The ref and/or Holm's corner should have never let that fight go on that long.  Holm shouldn't have had to be knocked through the ropes and her cheek cut open before people finally woke up and decided enough was enough.  She could have been seriously, maybe even permanently hurt.  I give Mathis credit for not gloating over Holm's prone position in the ring. 

Boxing is a rough sport, but common sense among officials and corner people should never disappear once the bell to start the round begins.

Too Close To The Mirror

I was a bit surprised to see several people waiting outside of the gym on Monday night.  It was the first evening of the summer session and all of them -- Shay, Mike (not to be confused with Country--the other Mike), Evanglina, Joan and Matthew (not to be confused with Matt from last session or Alan's son) -- were curious about what was to come.  Alan came in later with his son and Nick.  Country, Jamil and Diana were also in attendance.

Alan began working with the newcomers right away, while the rest of us did our usual workouts.  Country and Jamil sparred, but I only caught glimpses of what they were doing.  I was shadowboxing in the mirrors while they were in the ring.  In between rounds, I was fanning myself because it was warm.  Matthew, who's from France commented, "It is a workout, isn't it?"  I agreed with him.  He's very tall and has long arms.  Alan was impressed with how he picked up on punching form. 

Diana is improving, too, but she still struggles with the soreness that comes from using muscles that aren't utilized often.  Many who first learn to box have to deal with being sore in spots where they never were before. 

Then there are those who have to deal with the constant knocks that come with having boxed for awhile.  I iced the thumb on my right hand up when I got home, but woke up to it being swollen this morning.  Alan and I sparred, and my thumb caught him in an odd way on his elbow.  He had to remind me to go for his head.  I still struggle with going for anyone's face unless they are roughly my height.  Unfortunately, outside of people like Maggie and Oscar, who attended the gym in the past, there's nobody as short as I.  A few shots managed to catch Alan in the head and face a few times, but that was it. 

A common problem for boxers -- having one's hands down -- was literally my downfall in the second round.  Alan hit me square in the face, and I fell backwards onto the canvas.  He kept apologizing over and over.  "It's okay, I'm fine.  You just caught me, that's all," I assured him, and I was.  There was a little bruise on my lower lip, and I tasted a little blood, but nothing else.  We finished out the round. 

Earlier, Alan sparred with his son Matt.  He kept backing the younger man up into the corners and getting him with shots to the middle.  After awhile, Matt would automatically cover up, anticipating the body blows.  He got his father with a few head shots, but the older man proved to be very cagey.  I sparred with Alan right after he sparred with Matt, thinking, "Coach is going to be tired," but I underestimated him as well.

Matt is planning to come into the gym more now that he's home from school.  He also trains elsewhere in MMA.  "You've lost some weight," he said.  "I need to lose some more, but thanks," I told him.  "No, you look fine," he said.  I was wearing a red workout shirt and red shorts, but I was regretting the fashion choice.  I thought I looked like a sausage that has been stuffed into too small of a casing.  Other people have said that I've lost pounds, but I'm guess I'm too close to the mirror to really see it. 

Taking It To The Eye

I teased little Justin last night. He came in again with his father, Carlos. "You and I are going to spar on Wednesday," I told him. Justin gave me an amused look, and his dad laughed. Willie did a workout last night and noticed E's son. "Hillari, didn't you say that he was the one who knocked you out?" he winked. E's son gave us both a confused look as we giggled.

E thought he had taken a hit to his eye during sparring. I was working out on the uppercut bag while he was in the ring. He rested in the corner closed to where I was during the time out. "Is my eye swollen and red?" he asked. "No, not at the moment," I answered. His son stood next to Alan on the other side, helpfully holding up his dad's water bottle.

Alan's cousin, Ricky, came in with his two sons -- one 20-years old and the other 17-years-old. The sons worked out. "I saw your blog," Ricky smiled. More and more people that come into the gym tell me that.

Ieisha was going to ask me about sparring until she saw me rubbing my left hand. It doesn't hurt as much as it has been, but it still does, depending on how I move it. I was going to do uppercuts on the teardrop bag, but Ieisha suggested that I not do that. "I'm older and that's why it's taking me longer to heal," I said. "They say that 40-something is the new 30," she said. "Can't prove that by me," I grinned. Alan also asked me about sparring. When I told him about the continuing pain in my hand, he said something that indicated he found my claim dubious. "I don't want to get knocked out before I go to my high school reunion," I joked. I can imagine showing up with a black eye and having my former classmates thinking, "Who knew she was that crazy when we were all in school together?"

Deon (I think I have his name right) and Leon sparred. Alan kept warning Leon not to go so hard. I was working on the heavy bag that's closest to the ring, partially paying attention to the action. Several people gasped, and I turned to see Deon fall to the canvas. Leon had hit him in his left eye. Alan instructed Deon to remain laying down, and he did for several minutes. When he finally arose, Deon was a little unsteady on his feet. He said that his vision was blurry in that eye. I overheard Alan admonishing Leon about his heavy punching.

Alan ended up driving Deon to the hospital. I left a message for Barry to say that Deon left his bike in the gym -- he didn't have a bike lock, so that was the best place to leave it. I hope his eye is okay.