The Little Woman vs. The Coach

Ralphie, Carlos and Jamil were in attendance Wednesday evening.  Alan told me to get suited up for sparring.  I assumed I would be sparring either Carlos or Ralphie, who were mixing it up in the ring at that moment.  The both of them came out when the bell rang, and took off their gear.  "So who am I going to spar?" I thought.  I turned around to see Alan putting on a pair of gloves.

The bell rang, we moved around for a few seconds, then I asked him, "Where's your headgear?"  "Eh, I don't need it; I'm okay," Alan replied.  I hit him in the back a few times, which is an illegal thing to do.  But he would turn just as I was aiming for his mid-section.  For a moment during the second round we did, I made the mistake of being more focused on being tired instead of on Alan.  He got in an uppercut that stunned and knocked me a little off balance.  There was a second when I thought I was going to collapse to the canvas.  "You okay?" Alan asked.  I shook my head "yes" and kept going.

I backed Alan up aginst the ropes and gave him a right to the chin.  I didn't think I put a lot of power on that punch.  Later, Alan told me, "You hit very hard.  You could have taken out that fire fighter."  Ralphie said in amazement, "That other woman Hillari fought was a fire fighter?"  I still go over in my head what went wrong during both matches I had with Meg.  If only I could have pinned her against the ropes, if only I could have gotten some hooks off, if only, if only.

Earlier that day, I was telling Pastor Roger about the Christmas forty-six years ago when my late dad brought me a baseball and a laser gun.  I was two years old then.  My mother was not amused.  "Walter, don't you see that she's a girl?" Ma pointed out.  I don't remember exactly what Dad's response was.  I do know that he had expected another son (my oldest brother had passed away the year before I was born).  "Boxing. . .I bet your dad didn't see that coming," Pastor Roger commented. No, most likely he didn't.  I do have to give Dad credit that he didn't discourage me from the sport when he found out.  But I have no doubt that he thought it was unusual for me to be involved in it.

The Change?

Carlos and I sparred yesterday, and this time, I actually covered up when he threw shots to my mid-section.  If only I had covered my head as effectively.  I did one round with him, then Alan asked me to step out of the ring, so Jamil could get in.  After Jamil was through, I went back in with Carlos for a second round.  "Do you use batteries?" I joked with Carlos.  "I don't think I expend that much energy because I'm trying to gauge how the other person is punching and moving," he grinned. I was leaning over the ropes, breathing hard as Alan removed my gloves.  "You okay?" he grinned.  "I'm an old woman," I gasped.

Alan sparred with his son Matthew, who is on holiday break from military school.  I thought the two were going to kill each other.  Matthew was throwing some hard shots.  He and his dad had numerous clinches against the ropes and in the corners.  They kept throwing punches even then.  "Break!" I called out once when they were grappling on the ropes.  "Aw, let 'em go," Carlos said.

"Matt was doing the MMA stuff at home and he caught me with some moves.  My wife was screaming that we were tearing up the house," Alan said later.  Manny was in the gym, and he was showing Matthew several different wrestling moves that looked very aggressive.  Matthew told me that he hasn't done a lot of boxing at his school, but he's been wrestling quite a bit. 

On the way home, I teased Alan again for stopping the fight between Meg and I.  "I'll never hear the end of that.  Know that I did it out of love," he said.  "I know," I chuckled.  "No fighter wants a fight stopped on them," he added. During that fight, I did lose my balance a couple of times.  Lost of balance is a sign of perimenopause.  My skin feeling itchy and "creepy crawly", which it has been for some time, is another sign.  So is not being able to get to sleep and stay asleep.  It's almost 4:00 AM as I'm typing this entry.  Maybe I'm entering "the change of life".  I'm certainly old enough for that to begin to take place. If that is what's going on, I wonder if it will have a negative affect on me boxing.

You Tube Boxing

Carlos announced that he took his fight at Brooks Park off of YouTube.  "I only put it up there so my cousin could see it," he said.  We all told him that he should have left it up.  I think it is still accessible on this blog.

I had been searching YouTube, hoping that my most recent fight had not been posted there.  It's bad enough that the previous fight Meg and I had is on display there. 

I didn't spar again this past Wednesday.  Still too sore and unsteady on my knees.  Alan decided to move  around in the ring with Carlos.  He looked relieved when Ralphie came in.  Alan was going to be too tired to keep going like Carlos likes to go.  It was good that Ralphie could take up some of the slack and spar with Carlos. 

When the ring wasn't being used, I got in there to shadowbox.  I practiced moving my head, the technique I wasn't using the last time I fought Meg.  Alan said that using the rope (stretched out along the side of the ring for the purposes of bobbing and weaving) would be good to practice head movement as well.  I didn't do much bobbing and weaving because my knees couldn't take it that night.  In fact, as I write this, my right knee is slightly throbbing.  It's been doing that all day.  It may be the arthritis flaring up, or residual pain from when I sprained my knee twice (in 2005 and 2006), or both.  Taking aspirin will only help for awhile; unfortunately, the pills won't cure arthritis. 

Back To Square One

I had considered not going to the gym last night.  My body was still sore, and I had been dragging all day.  Plus, it is not a good feeling to walk back into the gym, knowing that one has lost a match, and knowing that everybody else knows it as well.  I had decided before I got there that I would not spar that night.

Johnny was grumbling about the match he lost last Wednesday.  "I was so mad!  All that I had practiced in here went out of the window during my match!".  He and Jamil sparred that evening.  Alan and I both noticed that Johnny was not moving his head constantly.  He had been moving it a lot during the last match he had. 

Manny came in, saying that he now has Mondays free to workout.  I like Manny.  He wished me a belated birthday when he arrived.  Manny reminds me of my paternal grandfather.  My granddad James was about Manny's build when he was a young man, and my granddad also boxed.  Manny has facial features like my grandfather, especially the high cheekbones.  He was telling everybody about the trip he had taken to Europe.  I had seen the pictures on Facebook.  One charming picture showed his little girl wearing a beret, and posing outside of a shop in Paris, France.  His vacation sounded like a lot of fun.

Manny was working the bigger of the two heavy bags in the gym.  Boom!  The chain and big nail holding it up broke, and the bag crashed to the ground.  Alan attempted to re-hang it, but the bolt had broken, too.  He was going to let Barry know, so that Park District personnel can repair it.

There may be a third match with Meg.  I would like to do it, but I also know that I can't stomach a third loss to her.  Neither can I take the aches and pains.  Usually, I'm able to shake off being banged up after a couple of days.  When I was involved in a car crash back in 2005, not only did I walk away from the totaled car, but I only took one day off from the job I had.  The effects of the latest banging up has continued to hang on. 

Several people noticed that I was limping and dragging about at church this past Sunday.  I moved slowly to get up to the front of the church when it was my turn to read Scripture (I'm the lector for this month).  I thought I felt Pastor Roger's eyes on me as I painfully made it up the few steps to the lecturn.  Yesterday, pain shot up my side while I was talking with him in his office.  "I'm still sore," I groaned.  Pastor shook his head.  "Remember, you got into the ring," he commented.  Margaret, the choir director, had said basically the same thing in an email she sent me earlier this week.  "Sorry to hear that you got banged up, but it's your own fault," she said.  Alex figured that I now owe Meg a couple of beatdowns.  But he, Margaret and Pastor all agreed that Alan should have stopped the fight.

"I knew you were mad because I stopped the fight.  But I had to consider that you were taking a lot of punches, and I had to consider your age," Alan explained Monday night.  I remain disappointed, but I realize that my hurt pride is the real issue. He and I both agreed that I need to work on technique before I meet Meg again (if that happens), or anyone else in the ring. 

Carlos' Fight At Brooks Park

Here is Carlos' fight that took place at Brooks Park this past Wednesday.  I recorded it on his digital camera. Carlos is in the red shorts.

Stopped

Carlos picked me up to go to Brooks Park tonight.  We made it there right at 6:30 PM to weigh in.  Johnny, Jamil and Alan were already there.  The crowd was small, probably due to the snow coming down.  "There are more boxers here than spectators," Johnny commented.

Some of Barry's boys were there -- Kenny, Kevin and Marquis.  I was happy when Marquis got a win.  Kenny is very long and tall, and he used that to his advantage to get a win over his opponent. 

My fight with Meg was the fifth bout of the evening.  Johnny's fight was the seventh, and Carlos' was the tenth and last fight of the evening.  Jamil didn't get a fight; he worked the corner during our fights.

I walked into the washroom to change into my boxing clothes.  Meg walked out of a stall.  "This is awkward," she giggled nervously.  I didn't think it was.  "I'll see you out there," she said before rushing out.  Some boxers do build up a temporary animosity towards their opponents, but I don't do that.  Focusing on what moves I can use to the win is more productive than giving an opponent the evil eye.

The bell rang and Meg came out of her corner like a bull.  The combinations I planned to execute just fell by the wayside.  I took Alan's advice and threw more hooks than I usually do.  The hooks were focused on her body, but Meg worked her punches on my head.  I was worn out by the end of the first round.  The second round wasn't too better, even though I threw as many punches as I could.  Meg was scoring more because I have the annoying habit of not moving my head to avoid incoming punches.

I could hear Jamil encouraging me from the sidelines.  However, Alan's instructions during the rest periods got lost in the fog permeating my mind.  All I remember was him saying, "She's tired too.  Keep sucking air."  The referee asked me if I was okay at the end of the second round.  I nodded.

Meg continued her assault after the bell for the third round rang.  I was desperately trying to hang on, despite being popped in the eye, getting rocked a few times, and losing my balance.  The referee got in-between Meg and I and stopped the fight.  I rolled my eyes, sighed, and shuffled back to my corner.  "I would have given her a eight count," the referee told Alan.  After we were all out of the ring, Alan confessed that he gave the referee the high sign that the fight should be stopped.  There are a couple of ways a coach can do that.  One is to throw a towel in the ring.  The other is to stand on the apron of the ring while the fight is still in progress.  "Why?" I asked him.  "I didn't want you to get hurt," Alan said.  "I understand," I said, even though I would have rather lost on points.  However, that's what a good coach does.  They look out for their fighters.

Johnny lost his fight, too, and he was even more disappointed.  He hung in with the guy, an opponent whom Carlos had fought with during the Loyola Park boxing show back in September.  "Somebody's got to win in our group," Johnny said.

Carlos got fired up on his opponent beginning in the second round of his bout, and he never let up.  I was recording it using Carlos's camera.  Later, as he drove me home, Carlos said, "I can't believe I won."  But of all the guys currently in the Loyola Park gym, Carlos displays the most energy and stamina.  He can go for six, seven, eight rounds sparring.  Carlos said, "I won't fight again until I lose some weight.  I don't want to be knocked out by a heavyweight."

I feel the same way.  Besides not moving my head, my stamina is not as high as it should be, and I need to seriously lose weight.  The pounds have been creeping back up since the holiday season began.  I can't keep plodding around in the ring.  If I keep it up, someone is seriously going to knock my behind out.  It won't be a TKO like I took back during the summer when Ieisha clocked me.  I'll be laid out cold. 

Now there's another second place trophy sitting next to the other second place trophy I have.  I'm ticked because I know I could have done better.

Day Before My Birthday

Outside of Alan, the only people in the gym tonight were myself, Carlos and Jamil.  Alan was still trying to get fights for this Wednesday for Jamil and Johnny.  "I'm a little nervous about having a fight. I think I'm not ready," Jamil said.  "How long you've been coming here? About four months, right?  You're ready," I told him. 

"Did you practice over the past few days?" Alan asked me.  I did, finding my Title individual workout timer, setting it for three minutes per round.  The combinations were coming fast and furious.  "Now how come I can't go this fast while sparring or in a match?" I wondered.  I've been feeling all of 47 years old lately.  I suppose I'll feel all of 48 years old tomorrow. 

Before Carlos and I sparred, I thought to myself, "Please, no body shots."  Carlos got the body shots in, and I covered up against some of them, but not all.  The nausea began to rise again.  Later, Alan told me, "Well, Carlos is heavy-handed, plus he's taller than you."  So is Meg, who I'm scheduled to box with on Wednesday. 

Earlier in the day, my dry bottom lip was irritating me.  The cold weather plays havoc with my skin, and my lips go bone dry.  I picked the dead skin away, a bad habit I need to stop.  I pulled too much and blood appeared.  I put on lip balm, hoping Pastor Roger wouldn't notice it.  "Do you have a bloody lip?" he asked after I stopped in his office before leaving work for the day.  I explained my dry skin problem.  "It'll probably get cut open again tonight at the gym," I joked.  Pastor shook his head.

Carlos took a look at my lip at the end of the evening.  The blood had stopped coming by that time, but there was a spot indicating the damage.  He thought he busted my lip, but he initially didn't want to say anything.  I chuckled. 

Shots and More Shots

I didn't go to the gym this past Monday because of a short bout with the flu.  I wasn't overly congested; I seldom am when I get the flu.  I get headaches and feel aches all over.  Monday and Tuesday I spent sleeping, since I took off from work. 

Carlos and I sparred, and I've never taken that many shots to my stomach in my life.  I thought I was going to be sick to my stomach.  Luckily, I didn't eat anything before I went to the gym tonight.  My head didn't do much better, as Carlos cracked many right hooks to my skull.  I've got a real problem with not covering up to avoid hooks that needs to be solved.

Alan was yelling instructions from the side, reminding me that Meg was going to rush me again when we meet next Wednesday for the rematch.  Carlos wore me out, and the punches I returned barely grazed him. My back began to bother me, and I was grateful when the bell rang, ending our second round. Afterwards Alan told me, "Forget about pawing for her punches to slap them down.  Cover up, then return as many punches as you can."  Even Pastor told me that I need to wait on Meg to come to me before throwing punches.  "You'd throw one punch, and she'd score points by throwing three back.  Wait until she gets up close then let those punches go," he told me during lunch.  Good advice.  Alan and I worked the pads, and he admonished me to hit harder, which I can do, and I did.  Why I often don't hit hard during sparring or during the last match I had, is a big mystery, even to me.  I've got basically five days to correct myself.

Alan suggested that I run, but my arthritis has really been a bear lately.  I was limping on and off while at work earlier, then again at the gym.  My right knee stayed sore most of the day.  Yet, I have to get my stamina up, another problem I'm always struggling to work out. 

Gym Before Thanksgiving

Ralphie said, "I bet the referees start stopping fights quicker now."  We were talking about all the news of boxing injuries and death that have been happening recently.  Amateur boxing traditionally has been more safety-conscious than professional boxing.  Announcers at various amateur bouts always announce after a stopped fight, "Our number one concern is safety."  But I would not be surprised if stoppages happen faster all across the board.

Besides Ralphie, Johnny, Carlos and Justin came in.  Carlos remained in the ring, as the rest of us rotated in and out to spar with him.  After he and Ralphie did a few rounds, Ralphie told Carlos, "You've got a lot of stamina, man!"  "I'm telling you," I commented. Ralphie said that a hit he took to the stomach nearly caused him to lose his dinner.  The hit I took to the stomach that nearly stopped me.  I narrowly avoided eating a right uppercut, as well.

Justin announced, "I brought a book in today."  The title was I Think I Can Fly; the main character, a pig, was featured on the front cover.  "I thought you told me you didn't know how to read yet.  Oh. . .you're learning," I said.  Justin nodded in the affirmative.  "Do you know the ABC song?" I asked.  "I know how to sing it backwards," the boy said proudly.  "You're better than me.  I always got tripped up on that," I said.

Near the end of the evening, we did some interval training.  One person held the heavy bag, while the other person punched it, then we'd switch places every 20 seconds or so.  Ralphie and Carlos were on the 175 pound bag, while Johnny and I were on the 150 pound bag.  After two rounds, Johnny and I were through.  Ralphie and Carlos kept going for an extra round.  I like interval training exercises like that, but I know my arms will feel it in several hours. 

"There's Been A Lot of Injuries Lately. . ."

Unfortunately, news came recently about the death of Francisco Rodriguez, a professional boxer who had been a six-time Golden Gloves champion.  He suffered a brain injury in Philadelphia during a match.  It sounded eerily similar to Rita Figueroa's brain injury a few weeks ago.  She survived after emergency surgery, and is up and about, which is a blessing.  Jamil commented, "There's been a lot of injuries in boxing lately."

Alan was surprised to hear about Rita's injury.  He then told a few stories about other boxers that had suffered injuries in the ring.  Johnny looked perturbed.  "It's a good thing we have headgear," he said.  "You can still get knocked out, even if you're wearing it," I said, thinking of when I took a TKO this past summer.  "The headgear just protects from cuts and headbutts.  When I was fighting years ago, we didn't wear any.  I had a fight stopped on me because of a cut I got from a headbutt," Alan said. 

Carlos came in without Justin, whom he said was hanging out at home.  Carlos hadn't been in for a couple of weeks because he had the flu.  He still wasn't feeling 100 percent Monday night.  He sparred with Jamil, Johnny and I.  For a guy who was under the weather, he was hitting hard.  I quickly made up my mind to protect my face, because many of Carlos' punches were landing there.  His nose had been bloodied up by Jamil and Johnny; I think I got a hit in once on his nose as well.  After about six rounds, he announced, "I'm feeling better now."

I was a little late in coming to the gym, so I missed seeing Rashawn and his friends.  I thought I heard them playing down the hall, but I didn't come out of the gym to check.  I wanted to get a picture of them to post.

After church service on Sunday, LaChelle told me she watched a replay of the Pacquiao-Cotto fight.  She commented on how bloodied up Cotto was at the end of the fight.  "I never see you with bruises and cuts.  How do you avoid getting them?" she asked me.  I've had my lip cut open twice during sparring, but amazingly, no other major gashes or bruises.  I was accident-prone as a kid; I can point to 95% percent of the scars I have on my skin and tell you when and where they occurred.  Maybe I've just been lucky that I haven't been seriously banged up -- so far.

Countdown To Brooks Park

This past Monday, Jamil and I sparred.  Jamil had told me some time ago that he didn't feel comfortable sparring with women.  Alan had talked him into it by saying, "You're just going to be moving around."  He and I didn't do any real damage to each other, but we got in the aerobics.

When I walked in the fieldhouse, Rashawn, Savon, Cameron and Miles were at the front desk.  "Yay, the boxing gym is open!" they exclaimed when they saw me.  I smiled, but Mary was behind the desk, and she looked concerned.  Carol was going to open the gym when the boys ran ahead of her.  "They're not supposed to be in the gym," Mary said.  "Alan let them come in and play a few weeks ago," I explained.  Mary shook her head, as the boys came back to the front.  "You all can't go in the gym when the adults are in there.  Talk to your dads and ask them if you can sign up for the kids' boxing program," she told the boys.  Mary had Carol grab some ping pong equipment in an attempt to distract the kids from going into the gym.  "Their time in the baskeball gym is over, and the boys are waiting for their older brothers to finish playing ball.  That's why they're hanging up and down the halls," Mary told me after the boys went around to the ping pong table. 

I hadn't been inside the gym two minutes when the boys came rushing in.  "We saw the door being opened," they said, as they reached for the gloves and headgear.  "Remember, Miss Mary said that you all can't come in," I gently told them.  "Aw, why not?  We like to play in here," the boys said.  Truthfully, I don't mind Rayshawn and his friends being in the gym.  They don't bother anyone, and when asked to come out of the ring so the adults can spar, they do so without complaining.  They are nice kids.  But Mary has concerns about them getting hurt.  Regardless of the fact that I keep an eye on the boys, there is always the specter of possible liability issues. As I was trying to explain to the boys why they had to follow the rules, Mary came in and told them to come out of the gym. 

I got to the gym a little late Wednesday night to find Alan and Johnny already there.  "It's going to be a quiet night again like Monday, huh, Hil?" Alan said.  Ralphie came in, and that was it as far as attendance.  Johnny and I took turns sparring with Ralphie.  The timer is normally set for three minute rounds with one minute rests.  Alan set it for two minutes rounds instead.

None of us knew that until Alan told us.  I was wondering why I didn't feel as tired after doing a couple of rounds with Ralphie.  "I thought the rounds seemed short," Ralphie commented.  Alan figured it was a good way to help us work on our stamina.  We thought it was easier on the canvas, so we did extra rounds.  I ended up sparring for three rounds, something I hadn't done in awhile.  Brooks Park boxing show is about two weeks away.  "We're going to amp it up, right?" Johnny said to me.  We're going to have to, as there are a lot of competitors who will be at that field house. 

Photos of the Old Girl's Fight

Alan called me last night to say that there would be no matches available tonight.  There's a charity boxing show at the Evanston Boxing Club this evening.  There was a possibility that Carlos and I might have gotten some matches, but it was not to be.  The Chicago Park District has several more weeks of exhibition boxing shows, so we'll just have to try again.

I met Barry a couple of days ago at Starbucks, and he gave me pictures that Kitchens had taken during my fight back in September:

I'm hoping to get at least one fight in because Meg and I have a rematch in December.  The next photo shows that I did take some shots to the face:

In the next photo, I'm looking worn out as Alan gives me instructions.  This must have been taken between the second and third rounds:

That was not my headgear; my own is red.  I wish I could have worn my own, because what I was wearing kept slipping.  Headgear and gloves are provided to boxers during Chicago Park District amateur shows, and during the Golden Gloves, as well.  Boxers aren't allowed to use their own gloves and headgear.  The main reason is to keep things on the up-and-up.  Also, the amateur boxing gloves are either red or blue with white to help the judges distinguish between the boxers in the ring.

Birthday Licks and Blood

Today is Pastor Roger's 40th birthday.  On his Facebook page, he wrote that he was "over the hill."  When he came in, I gave him a hug and told him, "You are not over the hill -- don't say that."  After he went to his office, I remembered that I had planned to give him birthday licks.  In grade school, whenever it was someone's birthday, that person would get hits that matched how old they were.  Plus, they would get one lick for bad luck, and one lick for good luck.  Usually the last two hits were harder than the ones that came before.  Depending on how much you liked or disliked the other kid, the previous hits would be soft or very hard.

I announced my intent to give out the birthday licks to him.  Pastor Roger picked up two cups, one that was filled with tea.  "You wouldn't hit a man with glasses, would you?" and we both laughed.  When he put the cups down, I took hold of his arm.  "Uh, no, don't. . ." he started.  I softly tapped him on his shoulder with my fist.  "One for bad luck and one for good luck," I smiled. 

Carlos sparred with Elvin in the gym this evening, and it wasn't long before Carlos was bleeding.  Elvin caught him in the face a few times.  Alan did not bring his workout clothes.  He wiped the blood from Carlos' nose, and a spot of it got on Alan's dress shirt.  "It's okay.  I can get it out with peroxide.  It gets a lot of stuff out including wine," he explained. 

Ralphie and I sparred, and I ended up bopping him in the back of the head.  "Sorry!  I put in an illegal punch," I said, and Ralphie laughed.  We were in for two rounds.

Unfortunately, the Seward Park boxing show for tomorrow was canceled.  Yale had let me know about a boxing show that's taking place in Evanston on Friday.  Alan said he would call Yale to see if any matches are available.

First Time For Everything

Attendance in the gym was light tonight.  Outside of Alan and myself, only Vic, Elvin, Chris and JJ were present.  Rick came in with JJ to continue to work on JJ's boxing style. 

Before we got down to work, the usual group of little boys came in to play in the ring.  Ever since Alan allowed them to do that a few weeks ago, they've been coming back.  I was the gym early because Pastor Roger dropped me off. He and I and several other church members attended the memorial of a guy who used to work as the church's custodian several years ago.  Two of the little boys saw me waiting outside of the gym door.  "Is it open yet?" they asked.  "No, the coach is not here yet," I told them.  Then another of the boys came up asking if Miles had come by.  I didn't know which boy was Miles, but I assumed one he was one of the boys who came by earlier. "He went back to the basketball gym," I said, and the little guy ran off. 
I decided to learn the boys' names when they came back.  The littlest guy is Rashawn.  He looks like he's about six or seven.  The other boys, Savon, Cameron and Miles, are all under the age of twelve, as well.  Rashawn was asking a lot of questions about whether or not any of the heavy bags have ever fallen down.

Igor, whom JJ and I hadn't seen in a long time, walked in with a friend of his.  It wasn't long before he put on a pair of bag gloves and began to hit the 175-lb. bag.  Mary came in and told him that he had to sign up if he wanted to train.  "You're going to be signing up more than half way through the session," she told him.  Igor said it was okay. 

"What's the deal with Igor?  Mary made him sound like he had a problem," Alan said.  "Igor used to drive Steve crazy.  First of all, there's the language barrier (Igor is from the Ukraine, and his command of English is limited), then he asked the same questions over and over again.  Also, he would never spar after he'd said he would," I explained.  Mary told Alan that Igor would be in Monday.

Vic and Alan sparred.  Vic was breathing heavy after one round as he rested in the corner.  "You okay?" I asked.  "Asthma," Vic breathed through his mouthpiece.  He explained to me later that he has had the condition for several years.  "It only bothers me when I exercise," he said. 

I thought I would end up sparring with Vic, and I had already made up my mind to go easy on him.  Instead, Vic came out of the ring, and Alan stayed in.  He motioned to me to come in.  "Why is it that we have never sparred before?" Alan said, as we paced the ring, waiting for the bell to ring.  "I don't know," I answered.  "If you really hurt me, then they'll say you beat up on an old man.  If I hurt you, then they'll say I'm picking on a girl," Alan grinned.  I grinned back, "We can't win either way."  I got some good hooks in on Alan, and he rapped me in the nose.  Afterwards, I rubbed my nose, acting if it was really hurting.  "Aw, I didn't hit you like that," Alan said.  "You did get me in the nose!  But it's okay; it's not broken," I laughed.

Spiderman and Gloves

"Just the little man I wanted to see," I said to Justin when he came in with his dad.  I presented him with the Spiderman action figure I found within a bag of toys that had been donated to my church the other day.  He played with it for part of the evening.  Justin showed it off to his dad, too.  "Did you say thank you?" Carlos asked him.  "Thank you!" Justin told me.

Carlos and I sparred, and I got caught with a jab to the face.  I was able to get him with several well-placed left and right hooks.  We only did one round, and I was beyond pooped out. 

While putting on gloves before I got into the ring with Carlos, I noticed the bag gloves did not have extra covering that comes down over the velco strap.  "Ah, that's one way to tell the difference between the bag gloves and the training gloves," I thought.  It also occurred to me that it has taken me several years to figure that out.  Yes, I can be a little slow on the draw, and that was long before I started taking hits to the head in boxing gyms.  Bag gloves are designed to go on and off easily.  Twelve ounce to twenty ounce gloves are common for training purposes.

Eight ounce and ten ounce gloves are used more for competition.  However, different sized boxers and boxers in different weight classes need different sizes of gloves. There are still not a lot of variety available for women who box.  Hopefully, as the sport grows more among females, there will be more gloves to choose from.

I invited Pastor and Virginia to come to the gym on any Monday, since they won't be able to go to my match in December.  Hopefully, when they do come in, I'll be sparring with someone so they can see me in action. 

Elvin and Chris sparred last night, and Elvin caught Chris with a huge punch to the face.  Chris fell back into the corner, and I saw that he tried to shake the cobwebs out of his brain.  "I saw where he got you with an uppercut while you were in the corner, too," I told Chris afterwards.  "An uppercut?  I couldn't tell. All of the punches felt the same to me," he said. 

JJ's Lessons

Rick, who's a boxing official, as well as a coach, came in with JJ last night.  Rick set up a camera to record JJ's moves so they could work on improving them.  "There are people who can box, but not everyone who boxes can teach boxing," Rick told Alan and I later.  That's true.  I often find myself stumbling over words in order to explain technique to people.  I have it in my head, but I can't always communicate it like I want.  I have to work on that. 

Leon and Ieisha were no shows again.  Oscar wasn't there, either.  Vivian and Ashley came in, did a short workout, then they left.  Jamil complained of not feeling well, and he was gone before the evening ended, too.  Carlos came in, but he didn't have Justin with him.  Mike came in; he told me that he saw the video of my fight on YouTube.  "You were Joe Louis, and your opponent was Muhammad Ali," he said.

Apparently, I have not been throwing my right all the way out.  Alan told me, "Don't shorten it, extend your arm and turn your leg into it."  "I've been working on the overhand right, but it doesn't come out the way I want," I told him.  "Then don't use that punch.  Use the other ones in your arsenal and modify them to make them work for you," the coach replied.  I continued to shadowbox, and worked on body punches and hooks, a set of punches that I seldom seem to use while sparring.  I'm going to have to employ them more, especially for the match in December.

When I arrived at work this morning, I discovered that someone had dropped off a box of clothes and a bag of toys for the food and clothes pantry.  Fitz, the custodian, helped me put them away.  I went through the bag of toys and found a Spiderman action figure.  "Justin might like this," I thought to myself, as I took it back to my office.  If he comes in with his dad tomorrow, I'll give it to him.

"When is your match?" Pastor asked me before I left work today.  "It's on December 9th, the day after my birthday," I told him.  Virginia said, "That sounds like that's on a Wednesday."  "Yes, it is.  We can't go," Pastor said.  Prayer meeting and the Adult Bible Study take place on Wednesday nights.  I thought to mention Sheridan Park, which has a boxing show later this week.  However, there is no guarantee there'll be a fight for me there. 

JJ Takes All Comers

I emailed the clip of my first fight that's on YouTube around to various people.  My stepmother called to say that she didn't watch it.  "I didn't want to see you get hurt!" she said.  Pastor Roger took a little while to watch it, but he did.  I asked if he had any advice. "I don't know much about boxing.  I'm not sure how it's scored.  But if you had cornerned your opponent and kept hitting her, would you have won?" he asked me.  "I probably would," I answered, thinking about the mistakes I saw on the clip.  "Then that's the best advice I can give you," he laughed.

"Where's Ieisha?" Alan asked me last night.  She hasn't been in for awhile, and neither has Leon.  JJ came in last night, expecting to have another round of sparring with Leon.  Instead, JJ took on everyone else who was available, including Chris, a guy who came in with Earlvin (I'll have to check the spelling of his name).  Jamil told me that his jaw was still hurting from when JJ hit him the week before.  Jamil's lip was cut when they mixed it up again last night.  Even Alan took a turn with JJ.  "I'm so out of shape," Alan told me right before he got inside the squared circle.  He lasted two rounds with JJ.  "I sparred with JJ once, back in 2003 or 2004.  I never got a lick in on him.  He was too fast," I said.  Alan figured that JJ did about nine rounds altogether. 

Justin was heavily engrossed with his hand-head video game when I asked him, "Do you watch Sesame Street?"  "I did when I was a baby," he said.  His answer reminded me of Spanky McFarland in an old "The Little Rascals" short, telling an adult, "When I was a kid. . .", despite of the fact that Spanky wasn't too far out of the crib himself.  "How come?" I asked, assuming that all little kids watch Sesame Street.  Justin just shrugged his shoulders. I was almost eight years old when that show premiered on TV.  Despite of the fact I was a little out of the target range, I watched it.    I guess kids find other things -- like video games, for example -- more fascinating these days. 

Mike's Spotlight

Mike, otherwise known as Country, is featured sparring in this video.  He's the guy in red, sparring with another guy also named Mike:




Here's Mike (in red again) sparring with Anarbol:


Lastly, Mike spars with Brian:

JJ's Spotlight

Here are videos of JJ sparring in the gym. He's sparring with Anarbol, who trains out of Brooks Park.





In this video, JJ spars with Paul L.

You Tube Woman

Two little boys walked in the gym.  I had seen them before; they usually are with several other boys.  I was talking to a new man who came in the gym this evening (unfortunately, I didn't get his name).  I waved to the boys.  Alan walked in a few moments later, and they asked him could they hit the bags.  Alan told them they could, and they rushed to put gloves on, and they got into the ring.  After a few moments, I heard the smaller one, who looked to be about five years old, wondering how to use the punch mitts.  His buddy, who looked to be seven years old, wore gloves. 

I stopped to show them how to use the pads and how to throw punches.  They wanted to wear the two chest protectors in the gym.  I helped them put them on, but they were too big.  It was comical to see, especially on the littlest guy.  They played around in the ring, with me giving pointers from the sidelines, until it was time for Carlos and Jamil to spar.

Carlos also sparred with Johnny, then myself. In the middle of the second round he and I were mixing it up, Carlos popped me in the stomach.  I stopped and backed up, my hands covering my stomach.  "Are you okay?" Carlos asked.  "I'm okay," I breathed, then boom! I popped him in the head.  Afterwards, he said, "I don't think I hit you that hard.  I think I just caught you in a good spot."  He was right; he didn't hit me as hard as he could have.  But a body punch in the right place is a leveler to an opponent.

Right before we all left for the night, Carlos told me he saw the fight I had at Loyola Park with Meg last month on YouTube.  It took me awhile to find it, but here it is:



The first thing I noticed was, "Damn, I need to lose more weight!"  The second thing I noticed was all the hesitating and pawing I was doing.  I've got to step up the training, and cut down on the food.  A boxing exercise DVD came in the mail today, featuring the couple who put out the Balasz Boxing newsletter (http://www.balaszboxing.com/).  I always watch exercise DVDs before I actually work out with them.  From what I saw, it looks like a great workout.  I appreciated that one of the guys in the DVDs actually admitted that he was getting tired.  You never hear that out of anyone in other exercise DVDs.

This second YouTube video features Meg again in the fight I saw her in at Hamlin Park recently. 



It's nice to have these "fight films" up so I can study them before our rematch in December.

Craig, who runs the blog The Broken Heart of Rogers Park (http://www.morsehellhole.blogspot.com/) ran a picture of Diego, Kevin, Kenny, Gus, and the other boys who attend the kids' boxing program.  A guy commented that they thought a couple of the boys were flashing gang signs.  Some were holding up peace signs and "#1" signs, but gang signs, no.  Too many of the people who comment on Craig's blog want to believe that all of the African-American and Hispanic kids in Rogers Park are gang-affiliated.

Cool In The Ring

"I don't think Missy realizes how hard she hits.  That's why I won't get into the ring with her," Vivian told me tonight in the gym.  Missy doesn't hit as hard as Ieisha, but she hits hard enough.  She also keeps her composure very well while sparring. 

A blow dead on my nose nearly took me down.  "Are you okay?" she asked me.  I shook my head to get back into the present.  "Yeah, I'm alright," I answered.  "You don't ask me if I'm okay if you hit me," Alan joked with her from his position outside of the ropes.  Missy then got in an uppercut during our second round that almost took me out.  I was not wearing my mouthpiece because I kept gagging on it.  After the round ended, I checked my bottom teeth.  Fortunately, none of them were loose.  "You've got blood on your lip," Alan said, as he took my gloves off.  "Again?" I said. 

"The both of you were very composed in the ring," Alan commented.  I was thinking back when I was a kid in street fights, throwing wild punches and kicks.  The few fights I won were due to lucky blows I threw.  These days, I realize that one has to fight focused with a cool head.

JJ was in the gym, and he was surprised I was able to have gotten a fight.  "I thought you weren't able to get fights," he said.  I explained about being able to do exhibition fights.  "How long do you think you'll fight?" he asked me.  "Until I'm fifty.  That's a couple of years from now," I answered.  "You're forty-eight?" JJ asked in amazement.  "In December," I grinned.  "I didn't think you were that old," JJ said.

Leon was happy to mix it up with JJ in the ring.  I was on the side of the ring, having my usual conversation with Justin about the bag of toys he always brings with him.  I heard some loud thuds, and looked up to see Leon and JJ throwing bombs at each other.  I was worried that one of them was going to end up laying on the canvas.  Leon was very tired afterwards, hanging over the ropes breathing hard.

Jamil was very worn out after he was sparring with JJ, as well.  Alan told me he would love to get in and move around with JJ.  "I wanted to the other time, remember, but there were a lot of guys in that day who needed to get in the ring.  They're paying for the gym, while I'm just the old man who wants to jump around." 

Alan had pictures of himself with legendary trainer Angelo Dundee, the guy who trained Muhammad Ali.  They were very nice shots. 

No Fighting After Eating

I usually try to eat something a couple of hours before I go to the gym.  I want the food to be digested long before I start hopping around on the canvas.  I ate too close to the time I normally go there.  A handful of granola was my only meal earlier that day, so I was starving by the time I got home. Four (!) hot dogs were still sitting on my stomach when I got to Loyola Park.    There was no way that I was going to spar.  Johnny told me he felt the same.  He had wolfed down a bowl of chicken noodle soup just before he came in.

The cup of energy drink that I had with the hot dogs pushed me to have enough get-up-and-go to have good workout.  I spent several rounds working on defense, since that is a weak spot of mine.  I also worked on a left uppercut-right uppercut-left hook/right hook combination. 

Jamil, Leon, Vic, Carlos, Missy and Alan asked about the other fights that took place at Hamlin Park last Thursday (Carlos and Alan had gone, but didn't stay for the entire boxing show).  I told Alan about Meg's fight with a woman who appeared to be bigger in size than her.  "You could have had a fight with the bigger gal," Alan said.  That's true, but that is not how things worked out that night.  The Brooks Park boxing show is the day after my birthday in December, according to the calendar.  Meg and I are supposed to have a rematch there.  I have a little over a month to train for that. 

Carlos sparred with Leon.  When Carlos took his headgear off, I noticed a spot of red on his right cheek.  "You've got some blood on you," I pointed out, thinking that he had a cut on his face.  The blood was actually coming from his right nostril.  "I got hit in the face again," he said.  "Dad, you're really bleeding," Justin told him, but it wasn't that bad.  "Yeah, I didn't keep my hands up.  I didn't do the thing that I tell you to do all the time," Carlos replied.  Lately, he's been teaching his son some boxing techniques. 

Carlos told Alan that he liked the idea of getting into professional boxing.  Alan explained that amateur boxers get paid when they fight at private shows (show fights).  Boxers must have a license, however.  Park District boxing shows are about the only place amateur boxers can fight in Chicago without a license, which explains how I was able to have a fight last month.  Sometimes, if a boxer arrives at show fight without a license, the money that would have been paid to him or her will go towards their license.  The last I checked, amateur boxers get paid $25.00-$30.00 for fighting in private shows.  The coaches get paid, too, but not much more than the boxers. 

Night At Hamlin

"That was a close fight at Loyola Park a few weeks ago.  I thought you won that," Shifty the referee told me at Hamlin tonight.  "I thought you punched well," Gus agreed.  We were standing in the gym at Hamlin Park.  Carlos and I were waiting to hear if we were going to have any fights. A line of women walked into the gym, and I thought I might have a chance.  Unfortunately, I had no match.  Carlos didn't get a fight, either. Gus got a fight, but he lost.

There was the possibility that Johnny could get a fight.  He got there about ten minutes to seven. "Man, isn't that just the way?  I'm too tired to take advantage of it!" he said.  The match didn't get made.  Alan introduced him to the opponent, whose name was Steve.  Johnny hoped that Steve would be available for an upcoming boxing show at Sheridan Park.

Deep Voiced Mike, who hadn't been to Loyola Park in awhile, attended the Hamlin fights, and so did Ieisha.  Carlos had given me a ride to Hamlin, but he had to leave early because he had to go to work tonight.  Alan left early, too.  The rest of us stuck around until the end.

Meg, the woman I was supposed to have a match with, ended up fighting with another woman from Hamlin.  Meg's opponent was bigger than she was, but Meg won because she was more aggressive. She also received a special award for being Hamlin's fighter of the year. Bill told me that Meg and I will be matched up at the Brooks Park show, which is a few weeks away.  "I'm looking forward to it!" Meg told me earlier when she saw me. "Damn", I thought, "I really have to train hard." 

There was a bad fight where one guy was fighting like a grade school girl, throwing windmill punches.  When the guy lost, he copped an attitude and remained in his corner as the winner was declared.  Professional boxer David Diaz, who had trained at Hamlin, was called up to hand out the trophies after that fight.  He was given a hometown hero's welcome.  

Ieisha drove me home afterwards.  For a minute, I almost had a ride home with Johnny.  He was on his motor scooter.  I've never been on a scooter before, and I was looking forward to it.  However, I had my gym bag with me, and it would have been hard to hang on with that load hanging off my shoulder.

Nausea In The Ring

Pop, pop, pop went Oscar as he worked over my head while we sparred for two rounds.  I was made aware real fast that I was not covering up very well.  In the beginning of the first round, I had energy as I backed up Oscar against the ropes.  Quickly, what little stamina I had disappeared.  In the middle of the second round, my mouthpiece was irritating my gag reflex.  I fought nausea as I tried to shut down Oscar's flurries.  "I will not throw up," I thought to myself.  I hung over the ropes afterwards, extremely winded.  I can't start running on a regular basis because my knees can't take the constant banging anymore.  However, I have to do something to build up my stamina -- and soon.

Jamil told me that he got a full-time job.  I was happy to hear that.  Most of the young men who are in the gym now, and who have come through the door in the past have been good guys. Unfortunately, there are so many young men these days living aimless lives these days; I'm always glad to be around young men who are trying to do the right thing.

Carlos will call me tomorrow if he's able to give me a ride down to Hamlin.  Carlos and Oscar will most likely get fights.  I'll bring my gear down, but I'm not expecting to be matched up.  Johnny is planning on going, too, even though he might not get a fight, either. 

A Sure Thing Falls Through

Meg already has a fight this upcoming Thursday, so it looks like I won't be able to avenge my previous loss to her.  Even when it appears a fight is guaranteed in the boxing world -- regardless if it's an amateur or professional match -- there's still the chance the deal might fall through.  I'll go to Hamlin Park's boxing show, but now it's doubtful that I'll get matched up with anyone. 

I still have to train as if something is coming up, so I was sparring with Oscar.  Before we got into the ring, I heard Alan telling him, "Really hit her.  I mean, don't go crazy, but don't hold back."  He and I went two rounds, and I didn't think I did so well.  Oscar will rush in with a flurry of punches and put his head way down.  I tried to catch him with uppercuts, but I couldn't get the right angle.  Oscar also hit me in my left eye.  "I can still see out of it, so it must not be that bad," I thought to myself.  He backed me up in a corner, and I quickly turned out of there, something I've never done before.  Both Oscar and Alan told me that I did very well, but I felt like I was floundering.  The night before, I had watched a DVD about defense, but I seemed to have forgotten all of the moves when I was in the ring.

Ieisha got Oscar in the face several times when it was their turn.  I told her a couple of times to throw her right hook, the same one that knocked me down a few months ago.  Oscar kept leaving himself open on his left, but Ieisha wasn't able to take advantage of it.  After the first round, she told Alan and I that she was bleeding, but neither of us saw any blood.  When the second round ended, she indeed did have a cut inside her upper lip.

JJ was there last night, and he sparred with Carlos.  This time, Justin was paying more attention to his dad's presence in the ring than usual.  Justin was also attempting to hit the double end bag.  Whenever someone notices him hitting any of the bags, the boy gets shy, smiles, and puts his hands in his pockets.

Alan showed me recent pictures of his boy, Matthew, who's 16 years old.  He's in military school, and looked every inch of a soldier with his close cut hair and uniform.  "Who is the woman standing next to him?" I asked.  "That's my wife," Alan replied.  His wife is a pretty woman, whose husband and son both tower over. 

Before I left to go to the gym last night, Pastor Roger called me.  He's been battling the flu, and his voice was very deep.  "What's up, Barry White?" I joked.  "I've been in bed for five days, and I've only been able to talk again for about an hour.  You don't want what I've got," he said, sounding absolutely miserable.  "I can't get sick, I've got a fight this week," I said.  Of course, I didn't know at that point that my fight was gone.  "If you're still feeling sick tomorrow, stay at home," I continued.  Pastor Roger doesn't believe in infecting others when he's ill, unlike my former boss, Les.  There were many times I was at the gym, sick as a dog, because I had caught a cold from Les, who didn't have enough sense to stay at home when he was sick.

Justin's Toys

For a long time, several of us in the gym thought that Wednesday nights were Carlos' regular time to babysit his son Justin.  "No, he wants to come here with me.  He likes the people, and he likes that you all talk to him," Carlos smiled.  Justin and I got into a conversation about the toys his brings to the gym.  He likes action figures, and had several that evening, including Spiderman and Silver Surfer.  The boy is perfectly happy to go to a corner with his bag of toys when he's there and get lost in a make-believe world.  Occasionally, he does pay attention when his dad is sparring. 

Justin was also telling me about when he was in pre-school.  I went to Head Start, but I told Justin that I didn't remember any of it.  "I remember Kindergarten," I said.  "That was a looong time ago," Justin grinned.  I had to grin, too, because he was right.  Over forty years have gone by since then.

Missy and I sparred for two rounds.  She had no mouthpiece, so it was more like doing defense drills, with me practicing how to deflect incoming punches.  "I think I get caught a lot because I'm leaving my jab out for too long," I told Alan afterwards.  "You have to throw it all the way out," he said. 

My energy level has been very low lately.  I haven't been eating much, and I've been taking long naps in the early evenings.  Other than when I'm at Loyola Park, I haven't been exercising.  I usually walk to my job at church, but in another few weeks, it's going to be too cold outside.  I'll have to take the bus. 
Maybe my slow down has to do with the seasons changing.  That's usually the main reason.

Advice From The Guys

The gym was packed Monday night.  JJ and Mike showed up, and they sparred with several of the guys.  The both of them were happy and surprised to hear that I'd had a fight and have another one coming up next week.  "You have an excellent stance," Mike told me.  "If you throw combinations, you'll catch her with one of those punches.  Keep your guard up.  She can throw punches all day, but none of them will matter much when it comes to scoring if she can't land them." 

Johnny told me that he noticed that Meg ran a lot in the ring during a match a couple of weeks ago.  "She throws one punch then dances away for the rest of the round.  If you can tie her up in the corners, then you can get a lot of punches in."

JJ said, "You need to get in there fast because the rounds are short.  It's almost like you have to come out brawling."

Mike and I ended up sparring for a couple of rounds. I had Mike up in the corner, giving him body shots to his right side.  "Work both sides then back up to the head," Alan told me. 

After all of the advice, I'm feeling more confident about facing Meg again.  But I have to practice, practice, practice.

Taunting Pops

"I really didn't want to spar tonight," Alan told me as we were leaving the gym last night.  "Why did you then?" I asked.  "Eh, sometimes I think I get taunted into it.  The guys want to take Pops on," he answered.  I suspect a lot of young men have harbored the "I can beat the old man," idea for eons.  I always figured that just because a man is over a certain age doesn't mean that he's forgotten methods of survival. Alan sparred with Carlos earlier.  After their last round, I saw spots of blood on Alan's shirt.  "One of you is bleeding," I pointed out.  Crimson seeped from Carlos' nose, and Ralphie grabbed a towel to wipe it away.

Ralphie and I sparred for a couple of rounds.  He turned while he was up against the ropes, and one of my punches caught him in the back.  Later, I was concerned because Ralphie injured his back in an car accident some time ago.  Ralphie didn't seem any worse for wear after our rounds, but I still felt bad about doing that.

Pastor Roger and Virginia returned from their vacation yesterday, and he was in the office this morning.  It was my day off, and I was waiting for Paulette, a fellow choir member, to come by.  We were going grocery shopping.  "I thought you weren't allowed to fight," he said, when I called and told him about the match I had.  "Park District fights aren't counted on a boxer's amateur record, so I was able to do so," I told the Pastor.  I invited Pastor and Virginia to the rematch I have with Meg in a couple of weeks, but they have to check their schedule. 

In the meantime, I've stepped up the exercise and watching what I eat more closely . I've been working out with kettlebells twice a week, and I really like them.  I've been walking to work every day (although that'll change once the bone cold weather comes in and snow is on the ground).  I keep a food diary.  The only thing I'm not crazy about concerning the diary is having to write my weight down every day.  When I was going to Weight Watchers a few years ago, people were advised not to weigh themselves constantly.  It could serve as a discouragement, especially when the weight doesn't come off as quickly as one wants. 

When Alan Is Away

Mary told me, "Remember, no sparring," after she learned Alan was not coming in last night.  "No, I never let them spar when the coach is out," I told her.  Carlos, Leon, Jamil, and Oscar had other ideas, however.

When Steve was in charge of the gym, Friday was sparring night.  Rarely did sparring take place on Wednesday unless some of the guys had fights coming up.  I think it was easier to enforce the no sparring rule whenever Steve was out, because he only allowed it on one day.  Alan has sparring each time the gym is open, so people have gotten used to that.

I turn around to see Carlos wearing headgear.  "You're sparring?" I asked.  He answered in the affirmative.  "Mary doesn't want people sparring when Alan's not here," I told him.  "Oh, we're just going to move around in the ring," Carlos answered.  "Yeah, we're going light," said Leon, who was ready to go.  Both his headgear and gloves were on.  I got a bad feeling in my stomach, as I remembered how Deo was injured by Leon.  "Do sparring drills," I ordered, hoping it would not turn into full-on sparring.

Stay pretty boxing headgear at BoxingDepot.com

It wasn't long before I heard pops that indicated the guys were going harder than they should.  I stopped my workout to watch the action closely.  Several times, I had to warn Leon to take it easy.  Carlos took hard shots, Jamil and Oscar took heavy hits to their bodies.  "They're not little kids, so they should be able to spar.  You're a coach," Ieisha told me.  "Yeah, but I'm not a Chicago Park District employee.  Mary's against sparring when Alan's not here because of liability issues," I answered.    If someone becomes injured, and it's discovered there was no official supervision involved, game over.  The Park District could be sued, I could also be named in a lawsuit because I'm an official volunteer, and worst of all, the gym could be shut down.

Barry called me the day before to congratulate me on the match I had Friday.  A check of the calendar says I have a little over two weeks to get ready for my rematch with Meg.

Finally showed Justin my Kindergarten class picture.  The boy appeared to be amused, especially when I pointed out my five-year-old self.  I also showed Ieshia, who laughed at how formal some of the boys were dressed.  "That's how kids looked in 1967," I laughed.  Carlos picked me out right away.  "You look the same," he said.  "Yeah, I do, except for the gray hair," I smiled.  

For awhile I've been putting in one entry a day for a "Follow Your Passion" contest sponsored by an aspirin company.  The grand prize is $25,000.00.  If I won that, I'd probably buy a cobra bag for the gym.  I miss the old one that used to be there.

The Long Welcomed Loss

Johnny, Oscar and I sat in the boxing gym, as the activities of Loyola Park's annual boxing show swirled around us.  "I'm worried that I might not get a match.  My friends are going to to be mad if they show up tonight, and I'm not fighting!" Johnny said.  "Make it up to them, and take them out for drinks," I smiled.  If Jamil had showed up, Johnny could have been matched up with him.  Unfortunately, there were no opponents for Johnny last night. 

Oscar had a fight lined up early on, but it was canceled for reasons that I'm not sure about.  I think the guy he was going to fight ended up in a match with someone else.  However, Bill and Alan came up with an opponent for Oscar to fight at Hamlin Park's upcoming boxing show.

Ieisha arrived a little later.  At that time, it was still unclear whether her or I would have a fight that evening.  Alan was in another room, working it out with Bill.  Most of the youngsters from Loyola were already matched up, including Diego, Kenny, Gus, Marquis, and Ed (Man-Man).  There was a woman who came inside the gym earlier, looking around.  I wondered if she was one of Bill's fighters. Several moments later, I learned that she was Meg, the fire fighter that Alan had told me about earlier.  Alan and Bill decided that she would make a better match  for me instead of Ieisha, due to the fact that we were roughly the same height.  "We don't want you two to tear each other's heads off, but mix it up a little," Bill said.  Meg and I shook hands.

An anxiety attack began to slowly swell up inside me, which put a bit of a damper on the fact that I finally had a match.  "Why am I nervous?  I've sparred many times.  This is just one notch up from that," I thought.  The butterflies in my stomach flittered even faster as it dawned on me that Meg was from Hamlin.  Bill, the coach over there, has a rep for turning out what people have called, "the Hamlin killers". 

I sang the National Anthem, dressed in my boxing shorts and the latest jersey printed for the night's event.  It wasn't until later I noticed the wrong date -- September 26 instead of September 25 -- was on it.  I sang the song a little higher than I meant to do, but people seemed to appreciate it.  "I'm impressed.  I didn't know that you sing," Alan grinned. 

Alan and I worked the punch mitts a couple of matches before mine.  "Hit harder," Alan ordered as I threw jabs into the pads.  After I did so, Alan commented, "Shit, Hillari, I know you can hit hard.  Why don't you do that when you spar?"  I explained my rule on not hitting the other women hard because most of them don't have any fighting experience at all.  "I understand that you don't want to hurt people unnecessarily, but you've got to get their respect in the ring."  He put Vaseline on my face.  I had already wrapped my hands. 

Carlos had a match, too that night.  His son Justin was there, and I caught sight of Carlos' wife holding a cute baby boy.  I learned that Carlos has a second son named Jacob.  Alan gathered both Carlos and I.  "In between rounds, I want you to sit on the stool with your legs apart, and your hands down.  Take deep breaths and don't talk.  Let me do all of the talking," he instructed us.  Carlos would unfortunately lose his fight, as did most of the Loyola boxers that night.  I felt that little Marquis was robbed of a win, however.  I thought Diego should have been given the decision in his fight, too.  Ed and Kenny won their matches easily. 

Many people asked me if I was nervous.  "A little," I said, playing off the real terror I was feeling.  "It's good that you're nervous," Alan said, "because it keeps you on edge and alert.  Once you get inside the ring, it'll go away."  Kitchen, whom I hadn't seen in awhile, was surprised to hear I was fighting.  "Oh, this I've got to see," he said.  JJ was also at the show; he helped Barry in the corner.

Shifty was the referee for mine and Meg's match.  "Obey my commands at all times.  When I say stop, you stop.  Touch 'em up," he said, and Meg and I touched gloves.  Suddenly, she looked a lot bigger than she did when we met down the hall in the gym.  The bell rang, and I did my best to wait for her to throw punches before I countered with something.  It wasn't easy, despite the fact that we had a minute and a half rounds to work with.  Meg scored with several hits to my face, head and body.

During the second round, I heard a kid tell me, "You're losing this match!"  "Tell me something that I don't know," I thought to myself.  I just was not getting in close enough to make a difference.  Plus, my headgear kept slipping because I didn't have it on tight enough.  I didn't use mine, but the headgear that the Park District provided.  I quickly put it right when it did, avoiding having a time out so Alan could fix it.  I could hear him calling out instructions to me, as well as Meg's corner giving her pointers.  The audience, with the exception of comments I caught here and there, was like one big blur of sound.

Amazingly, I kept cool throughout.  A lot of people complimented me on the fact that I kept my composure.  The bell rang to end the third round, and I immediately went over to Alan to have him pull my gloves and headgear off.  I then walked over to shake the hand of Meg, Bill, and the guy who was assisting Bill in the corner.  Both men said I did a good job.  Back in the center of the ring, Shifty raised both mine and Meg's arms, but I knew that she won, and I was correct.  "You were really good!  We'll have to work together again!" Meg said after the decision was given.  Bill said that she and I could have a rematch at the Hamlin show.

I was not upset that I lost.  In fact, I figured that I would.  Most boxers lose their first fights.  But I was the happiest little woman in Chicago because of the fact that after nearly nine years, I finally got a chance to actually have a fight.  "You've lost your ring virginity," Alan grinned.

Sparring Virgins

The gym was more crowded than usual last night.  Vic, a new guy came in.  He told me he hadn't boxed in 15 to 20 years.  Vic used to work out at Clarendon with an uncle of his.  He plays soccer a lot, but wanted to get in even better shape.

Ashley and Vivian arrived with two more women.  The guys were already matched up for sparring purposes.  I suggested to Alan that I spar with one of the new women.  There are people who make a habit of always seeking out newbies to spar with, thinking they'll be easy pickings.  Jordan, the know-it-all that used to come in the gym when Steve was the coach, did that all the time.  My purpose was to see if they would be interested, and break them in slowly into sparring.  Vivian straight out said no, but Ashley was game.  After we got into the ring, I noticed that she had long arms.  "Eh, another instance of trying to figure out how to get around that," I thought to myself. 

As I promised, I went light, only tapping her in the face and on her body.  We only went one round.  I had taken my gloves off when Alan said to me, "No, stay in!"  Oscar got in the ring with me, but he didn't wear any headgear.  How things usually go when he and I spar:  I'm able to get a few head shots in, then Oscar starts punching non-stop, backing me up into the ropes and corners.  I was popped in the nose once.  "Are you okay?" he asked.  "I'm fine," I answered, hoping that I wouldn't end up with another deviated septum. 

Later, Ashley was sparring again, without headgear, against one of the new women who came in.  The new woman had headgear on, and struck Alan and I as being very well-composed in the ring.  Ashley kept turning her head as punches came in, and ended up being hit on the back of her head.  "Illegal punch!" I called to the new woman. 

"Bill at Hamlin told me he has a girl whose had a couple of fights.  She's lost both of them, but she's a fire fighter and stays in the ring.  Depending on how tall she is, I'll have to decide whether she's good for you or Ieisha for Friday's boxing show," Alan told me last night.  "A fire fighter?  Despite the fact she's lost her fights, she's probably in great shape," I thought to myself.  I also had the sinking feeling that it might be a "so close, but so far" situation.  A few years ago, I came very close to getting a fight at the boxing show, but it fell through at the last minute. I'll find out on Friday. 

Leon Signs Up

This past Monday, five new people showed up to start the Fall session.  The fifth person (and one of three women) was not exactly new; it was Arin, who used to come in the gym a few sessions ago.  She, like Ieisha, can only attend on one night, however, because of other obligations.  But it was very good to see her again.

The other women, Ashley and Vivian, spent time on the punch mitts.  They appeared not to be interested in sparring at all, which just leaves Ieisha, myself, and Arin (who has sparred in the past), to get into the ring.  I didn't catch the names of the two guys.  Jeremy, who used to workout at Clarendon, also came in.

Work your hands with punch mitts for boxing and MMA.

Leon signed up for the session this time around.  He spent a lot of the time watching the Mayweather/Marquez fight.  I had made a tape of it, and brought it into the gym.  I was going to leave a copy of it there for the gym, but decided to give that copy to Willie.  Willie asked me to make him one when I saw him in church this past Sunday.  I can always make another copy for the gym at another time.

I sparred one round with Oscar, then he went a few more rounds with Carlos.  If I do have a fight lined up for this Friday, I'd rather cool it on doing a lot of sparring.  No sense in me getting hurt before then.   Besides, I was fighting a cold, which thankfully, seems to have disappeared today.

Slugfest Snorefest

"That fight was garbage," Manny said to me when I ran into him outside of the Howard 'L station.  I had to agree that the Mayweather vs. Marquez fight was a washout.  Now I wish I hadn't paid to see it on pay-per-view. 

You know it was a bad night when two of the undercard fights were better than the main event.  Cornelius Lock knocked out Orlando Cruz and Michael Katsidis had some good moments over Vincente Escobedo.  I expected better out of Rocky Juarez during his match with Chris John.  John just danced around Juarez, and hit him at will.  But then, I didn't mind, because I thought the Mayweather/Marquez fight would be exciting.

"What is Marquez doing?" I kept thinking to myself as I munched on pizza (it was a special event, so I figured I turn in the twenty coupons I had to get a free pizza from JB Alberto's).  The man hesitated to throw punches the entire night, and when he did, there were few combinations given out.  Oh, he caught Mayweather in the head a few times, but "Money" just smirked at and out-slicked him.  Mayweather can be beaten, and he probably will one day if he doesn't retire again.  Marquez wasn't the man to do that, however.  His game plan, whatever it was, did not work against his undefeated opponent.

The most exciting part of the broadcast came after the fight when "Sugar" Shane Mosley told Mayweather that he wanted to get a fight with him.  Mosley and Mayweather seemed to be respectful of each other at first, then they got into an argument.  Announcer Max Kellerman was in the middle, trying to bring order.  Mayweather snapped that Mosley disrespected him by interrupting his interview with Kellerman, but it looked like Mayweather had told Mosley to come over in the beginning.  Kellerman tried to get a question in about fighting Manny Pacquiao, then Mayweather turned on the announcer like a Doberman.  "You talk too much", Mayweather snapped, and Kellerman looked taken aback.  As animated as Kellerman used to be during the boxing broadcasts on ESPN, I was surprised he didn't snap back on Mayweather.  Kellerman seemed a bit subdued during all of the fights that night.

Today is the beginning of the Fall session for the Chicago Park District, and as usual, I'm curious to see the new faces who'll show up at the gym tonight. 

Long Arms and Slipping

A guy named David came in last night.  He looked slightly familiar to me.  "I came in on another Wednesday, but the gym was closed," he said.  "That was probably that Wednesday that I couldn't get in, and Alan was out of town," I said.  "I was out of town?" Alan asked.  "Yeah, remember when I told you I came here, but no one was able to open up the door that night?" I said.  "I remember that conversation, but I don't remember where I went out of town," Alan replied.  "It's okay, we all have senior moments," I said.  "No, it's not okay.  I seem to be forgetting things a lot lately," he said.  Alan racked his brain for several minutes, and still couldn't remember.  "It'll probably come to me while I'm in the shower," he said.

Alan sparred with both Oscar and Johnny.  Johnny was a little nervous about getting into the ring with Alan; he hadn't sparred with him before.  Both men have long arms, but Alan's arms are a little longer than Johnny's.  Even though he's in his late 50s, Alan can still take some hits as well.  They did a couple of rounds before calling it quits.  Oscar was caught in the head and face by several of Alan's rights and lefts, simply because he wouldn't keep his hands up.  I kept telling to him to protect his head while he and Alan sparred.

I sparred with Johnny, and barely got around his arms.  I kept going in for body shots, but he would put a left out and effectively keep me back.  Once again, I started off like a firecracker, but by the time the second round was underway, I was worn out.  I managed to get some rights in on Johnny's head, but he got the better of the sparring session.  I was popped in my left eye, but the damage was slight, fortunately for me.  "You have to be right up on him to throw those overhand rights," I heard Alan say from the side of the ring. 

Later, Alan told me that I don't have to duck down so low to avoid punches.  I don't know why I do that, because I'm already low to the ground in terms of height as it is.  "The other boxer can't punch down, so you don't have to go so far down or move a lot to slip their punches," Alan told me. 

I'm looking forward to next Monday because the Fall session begins.  That means there will be a new crop of people, some of whom will hopefully continue to come to the gym for a long time.  The session is starting at somewhat of an inopportune time, however.  Loyola Park's boxing show is next Friday, and Alan is probably going to be focused more on those -- like Oscar, Carlos, Johnny and myself -- who might get matches then.

Shots and Knees

Justin told me that he liked Kindergarten so far.  He was in the middle of the ring, playing with his Spiderman action figures.  "You missed it.  I brought my Kindergarten class picture in, but you weren't here last week," I told him.  Later on in the evening, I attempted to sneak up on him while he was sitting on one of the tires in the gym.  At the last second, he saw me and grinned.  "He's learned to be quick in catching people do that.  I have a hard time sneaking up on him at home," his father Carlos said.

Carlos sparred with Oscar.  Both guys keep coming forward and going non-stop whenever they are in the ring.  It looked as if Oscar had punched Carlos in the stomach.  Carlos crouched down to the canvas and mumbled, "I need to wear a cup."  Turned out that Oscar had scored a low blow.

Alan got in the ring with Carlos next.  Carlos would start to throw his left several times, then stop short.  In between rounds, I told him, "It looks like you're faking him out, but then you don't follow up with a second punch."  "I begin to throw a punch, but then he backs up and is too far away for me to land it," Carlos answered.  I mentioned it to him again when the action resumed.  "I'm trying," Carlos said, while Alan bobbed and weaved.

Earlier in the evening, Mary asked me if I would sing the National Anthem for the field house's boxing show, which will take place on the 25th of this month.  It seems to be a tradition now.  I think I've sung the National Anthem there since 2004.  Mary pulled out a banner to display out front to announce the upcoming show.  "Any of the adults going to be in the show?" she asked.  Alan had been talking to Johnny, Oscar and Carlos.  Later that evening, he would also ask Ieisha.  "I'm not sure," I said, hoping that someone from the adult program might be able to participate.  Several of the kids usually do have matches.  Alan walked in as we were looking at the banner, and Mary asked him the same question.  "Well, I'm trying to get a match for Hillari", he grinned, pointing at me.

My stamina is way down.  I was telling Ieisha there was a time when I would go three or four rounds in the ring.  I remember doing sparring drills with Keith for five rounds once.  I only lasted one round with her last night.  I took a shot to my upper right chest in a sensitive spot (guess what spot), then was stopped momentarily by a body blow.  I went down on one knee to rest, just like I have seen professional boxers do on cable TV.  "You both need to wear chest protectors," Alan said.  I'm going to have to dig mine out of the closet at home and bring it in.

I seem to have had a hard time on the speed bag lately.  I believe it has to do with the platform.  When it was installed in the gym a couple of years ago (one of the free pieces of equipment we received from Everlast when the international boxing championships were in town) it worked like a charm.  No longer did I have to stand on a riser to reach the bag.  The platform could be moved easily to adjust to a boxer's height.  A minor adjustment had to be done to the platform, and handymen were called in to fix it.  I don't know what was done, but now, the platform can't be moved up or down.  So I'm back to standing on one riser, which still doesn't put me up high enough.  I read somewhere that a person's head should reach the halfway point of the speed bag.  If I stand on both risers, I'm too high. 

Save on speed bag platforms at Boxing Depot.

Ieisha and Oscar sparred, and he caught her in the back of the head twice.  She would come in just as he was throwing his right, and it would snake around to the back.  He also threw in an overhand right.  I had done the same thing while she and I were sparring.  "Now I know what that overhand right is!  I will need aspirin for those knocks in the back of my head tomorrow," she said.

What's Up With The Calendar?

Alan called Arturo, who is the coach over at Eckhart Park.  According to the Park District boxing show calendar posted in the gym, there's a boxing show scheduled for today.  Alan was trying to get fights for Oscar, Carlos, and myself.  "I'm weighing people right now," Arturo told Alan.  "What do you mean you're weighing people?" Alan asked.  Turned out that the boxing show was taking place the day Alan called.  That's the second time a date has found to be wrong on the calendar.  I'm going to go to the Park District's actual web site to double check the dates.

I was looking at some pink Everlast boxing gloves in a catalog the other day.  They're cute, but I don't think I would actually buy a pair in that color.  I do have a pair of red ones buried at home.  I used to joke that I picked the red color to match the blood of my opponents.

Yesterday, I stopped in a sporting goods store to see if they had any kettlebell exercise videos.  The fitness equipment section, where the exercise DVDs were, was on the top floor of the building.  No kettlebell DVDs, but they had some limited boxing equipment.  I saw an Everlast heavy bag, and wished that I could put one in my apartment.  It's doubtful that my landlord would let me hang one.  Fortunately, there are free-standing ones available.

Great heavy bags by Ringside and Everlast.

This past Wednesday, the crowd was small.  Ralphie, Oscar, and Johnny came in.  Ralphie battered Johnny several times while they sparred.  Johnny wasn't throwing many punches back after awhile; the man was noticeably tired.  Near the end of the last round they did, Ralphie did a dramatic fall against the ropes after Johnny landed a light punch on him.  Ralphie shook his head as if he had been stunned.  We all laughed about that.  Johnny said he saw the same trick done during a professional fight.  When the opponent came in for the kill, the boxer who was playing injured nailed him.

Oscar and I sparred, and my energy was high during the first round.  I stunned him several times with rights to the head.  I still have to concentrate on throwing hooks more.  I was winded most of the second round, but managed to hang in there, pinning Oscar against the ropes and in the corners a few times.  "That was the best I'd ever seen you spar," Alan told me.

Carlos and Justin were no shows, and I was a little disappointed.  I had brought my Kindergarten class picture in to show Justin, who started school this week.  Alan was amazed that I still had my class picture from back then.  Unfortunately, I only have that class picture, plus the ones from second, fifth and eighth grades.  The other class pictures were destroyed (don't ask), and I don't remember sitting for a third grade class picture.  Ralphie and Johnny guessed which kid I was right away.  Alan made wrong guesses until I pointed myself out. 

Quiet Action Night

"You gotta sign up", Alan told Sadiq last night. "This is why the gym is empty; people aren't allowed to work out for free anymore." Indeed, only Carlos, Justin, Johnny, and myself were in attendance last night.

Carlos and Johnny sparred. "Doesn't Carlos look like he's slowing up?" Alan asked me. "Yes, he does," I answered. "I'm tired tonight, and I still have to go to work later on," Carlos said. Justin wasn't paying too much attention to the action. He blissfully played with his Super Mario video game off to the side of the ring.

Turns out that Justin had orientation at his school earlier this week. He doesn't actually start Kindergarten until next Tuesday. I told him, if I remember, I'll bring in my Kindergarten picture for him to look at.

A friend of mine, Yaddi, sent me a message earlier in the day asking if I could train her. I told her where the gym was and the price of attending the gym. I was hoping she would come in last night to look around, but she didn't come in. Yaddi and I met when we were trying out for the roller derby three years ago.

At the end of the night, only Alan and I were left in the gym. This has been a really big lull period in the gym. The fall session begins in a couple of weeks. Maybe attendance will pick up then.

Miss Laila Silences Her Critics

People have often disregarded Laila Ali, but she looks like the real deal here, in a sparring match against a guy. . .

The Guys Put In Work

Jamil sparred with Johnny last night. He was hit on the arm, and it kept hurting and wouldn't stop. I figured he might have over-extended a punch, as well. "Alternate between putting ice on it and putting heat on it," I told him. I hope it doesn't get worse.

Carlos, the workhorse, sparred with all of the guys including Ralphie, who is real slick in the ring. "You can spar with whoever is left," Alan told me. No other women showed up last night.

While I was watching Carlos and Ralphie, I felt a light tapping on my back. I turned around and looked down to see Carlos' little boy, Justin. "Tomorrow is the first day of school for me. I'm going to Kindergarten," he smiled. "You'll like Kindergarten," I smiled back. I can't remember my first day of Head Start, but I still remember the first day I was in Kindergarten. I met a girl, Clintonia, who had her head down on the desk. The teacher, Miss Sheffield, introduced us. "I don't like being here!" she told me. I was a little taken aback because I was excited to be there. I had been bugging Ma about wanting to go to school ever since I was two years old. Clintonia and I also attended first and second grade together. We're still friends today. She became a grade school teacher.

"You'll learn your colors, your numbers, and your letters," I told Justin. "I'll learn how to write my name," he said. "Do you know how to read?" I asked him. He shook his head. For a second, I thought that was odd that a five-year-old doesn't know how to read, but that's normal. Just because I knew how to read when I was three, doesn't mean every kid should know how that early.

Alan was already missing Matthew, whom he took to military school last week. He was assured by the people there that his son will be taken care of, but there was still the "empty nest" thing going on. From what he told me, the military school is very dedicated to building up young men.

"Looks like all of the guys are tired out," Alan grinned after Carlos and Ralphie came out of the ring. "That's okay. I'm not going to make them spar with me," I laughed. The coach talked to Carlos about getting a fight at Simons Park next Friday. "Isn't that Johnny Heard's gym?" Alan asked, and I nodded. Mr. Heard was a professional boxer. I was listening to an interview Heard gave back in 2004, around the time of the Golden Gloves Finals for that year. "Boxing is all about money these days. You don't see guys doing slipping, etc., they just want to get in there and knock each other's heads off," Heard told the reporter. That is true to an extent, even though there are still boxers who prize technique. That appears to be the main fault with MMA, where the competitors just want to take someone out as quick as possible.