The Last Of The Year

Yesterday, it looked as if only Alan and I were going to be using the gym at Loyola Park.  But then Ben came in and later, Professor (shown in the photo above).  "Leon is outside trying to park his truck," Professor told us.  Leon never came in, however, so we assumed that he gave up trying to find a spot.  I wanted to tell him that Emmanuel may stop in the gym, now that he knows that Leon has taken up training again.

Kenny had told Alan and I that he will stop in the gym.  Alan told him that he should.  I'm thinking it may be too soon.  The man just buried his dad over the weekend. He needs some time.

Alan was going to have me spar with Ben (shown in the photo), but I had made up my mind earlier in the day not to spar.  It wasn't that I was feeling physically out of it.  The past several days had been an emotional drain with feeling sad about Colonel and watching my stepmother contend with her health issues.  My mind just wasn't into it.

I am looking forward to the beginning of January because I want to see who is going to show up for the first day of boxing class at both Loyola Park and LaFollette Park.  Alan told me he's probably going to need my help because usually, the first day is mobbed with adults.  My 12 years and under class is nearly full.  I know a few of the kids on the list, but the rest are surprises.

Mary gave me some good advice regarding parents who put their kids into boxing in order to prevent them from being bullied.  "It's not a self-defense class. We teach Olympic-style boxing, that's it.  We're not preparing kids to go out and use the skills to just beat up on others," she said.  I will remember that for when the next parent comes to me with that "I want my kid to be tough" line.

Colonel's Day

I attended Colonel's funeral today.  It was a sad affair, as most funerals are.  But one of speakers said he didn't think that Colonel would have wanted anyone to be sad.  I believe that, too.  However, there were many, many tears shed.

As Colonel had been a pilot with the fire department, they were well represented at the funeral.  They took turns standing guard on either side of the casket.  Next to the casket there was a display of pictures.  I saw my name on a piece of paper.  Upon closer inspection, I recognized it as an email I had sent Colonel.  He had asked me to send him copies of some photos I had taken of him at Loyola Park boxing gym.  On the email was a picture of him hitting the heavy bag that I had taken.

Colonel was very good looking as a young man.  There were plenty of photos showing him as a soldier in Vietnam.  A particularly nice picture showed Colonel sitting on a couch with his wife; they made for a very attractive couple.

The person who oversaw the funeral at the funeral home told us near the end that although we'll miss him, we have to let Colonel go.  It was true, but it is still hard for me to come to terms with the fact that someone who was so lively is gone.

Alan drove me home and he said, "Everything starts up again tomorrow."  It will be a short work week.  People will be gearing up to show out for New Year's Eve.  Life goes on.  But a void created when a much loved person makes their transition doesn't close up so easily.

Small Crowd Boxing

A small crowd was at Loyola Park's boxing gym:  myself, Alan, Connor, David, and Jason.  It's often nice to be in a gym when it is not crowded.  I try to convince the kids at LaFollette Park of that when they express concern about there not being enough people there so they can spar.  I figure they'll appreciate having all of the room sometimes when they become older.

Connor and David started off the sparring action.

Alan sounded like boxing analyst Teddy Atlas when he kept telling the men, "Stop posing and move around!"  David actually offered his chin to Connor a few times. Afterwards, Connor stated why he wisely didn't take the bait.  "I figured that I would get caught by something," he grinned at David.

It looks like Connor and I are posing in this photo.  He was moving around just fine.  I kept trying to figure out how to get around his arms.  He would pop me with a straight right followed up with an uppercut to the body.  It was a good combination that kept me off of him.  "I kept thinking, 'I have to keep Hillari on the outside' -- that was my strategy," Connor said afterwards.

Alan doesn't use Facebook very much.  However, I "tag" him in the photos I take, and most of them show up on his page.  "Could you take some photos of me?  I want to do a Facebook thing," he said.

I later posted the pictures on his Facebook page.  "I like the comments I get there on the boxing pictures," he told me.

A Tough Guy and A Good Guy

I received notice that Colonel (real name, Ken) passed away yesterday.  It is always hard to receive news like that around the holidays.  The last time I saw him in person was at the LaFollette boxing show back in July.  I had heard from a few times via text messages (I have a raggedy cell phone that's not completely reliable).  The last message asked me to call him soon.  I made promises to myself to do so, but I never got around to it.  Now I regret that.

Colonel was a Vietnam war veteran.  He did not go into deep details about his time in the service.  But he said enough to let us know that it was no picnic.  After the service, Colonel joined the Chicago Fire Department where he remained until he retired.  He knew both boxing and martial arts, and he coached both.  Many of us at Loyola Park benefited from his knowledge.

He kept us laughing down at the gym.  The man had plenty of stories to go around.  There were a lot of off-color jokes he said that I wanted to put in this blog, but I couldn't.  But trust me, the jokes were funny.  There were also the stories about how he had to handle his business on people in the street who mistakenly thought Colonel was an easy mark.  He also had good advice, too.  I was helped greatly by his insights after I was unjustly fired from the church I used to work and attend.

What I will remember most is his attitude about his health condition.  It was kept quiet for awhile, but eventually it was revealed that Colonel was dealing with cancer.  Despite of everything, Colonel never let it get him down.  He was still doing his workouts, and just living his life.  Colonel was moving and getting around better than most guys twenty and thirty years younger than he.

I will miss him greatly.

My First Time at Fifty-Four

My first time sparring at age 54 was with Kathy, who is in the photo above.  She continues to improve greatly.  It was not my night, however,  She stepped in, got her punches in and stepped back out.  I was plodding along, spending more time avoiding being hit, than getting punches in.  Alan advised her to keep circling around me, and she did.  I tried backing her into corners, but she was already several steps ahead.

Professor caught David up against the ropes in this photo.  The two men claimed they were going easy, but it looked as if they had gone to war.  They got some good sparring time in.  David continues to improve on his skills.  Later, I heard Professor giving him some more advice.

Leon (on the left in the photo) sparred with Ralphie.  But Ralphie had enough after about a couple of rounds.  Then Leon took on Professor.  Professor held his own against Leon.  Leon threw a hook that missed, because Professor timed it right and avoided it.  "If that had landed, it would have sent him home," Alan commented.  Then Leon hit Professor in the ribs with a hard right hook.  Both Alan and I winched.   "That hurt me," Alan said.  He kept telling Leon to go easy, but Professor wasn't bothered by Leon's swings.

Finally got a new pair of glasses.  I'm showing them off in the photo above.  Since the last pair had been battered many times while I held the punch mitts for the kids at LaFollette Park, I'm going to be extra careful with the new pair.  They will go inside the eye glass case from now on before I put the punch mitts on.

David vs. Devian

I was waiting at the bus stop yesterday when Kody called to me from the back seat of a car he was riding in.  Turns out his dad was at the wheel.  I got a ride down to the field house.  His dad wanted an honest answer about how Kody was doing in the gym.  "He has a lot of potential, but Kody doesn't work out as much as he should," I explained.  "I know Kody is in there playing with the other kids and goofing around.  You don't have to tell me," his dad said.  Kody was silent. I had the feeling his dad had heard the same report before from Kody's school teacher.  His dad told me he would talk with Kody's mom to see if they will agree to sign him up for the winter.

Later, David got his wish when Devian, a new kid, showed up at the gym.  I was happy that Devian showed up too, because that meant I did not have to spar with David.  Besides, I wanted to see how well David could do against a kid closer to his size.  I also wanted to see more of what Devian already knew, since he told me he regularly boxed with his cousins.

Devian had his chin up in the air too much, and David took advantage of that.  Devian was also taking too long to take action.  "Be first!" I told him, as his mom, David's mom and sister, and Derrick, who showed up early for the teen class, looked on.  David loves to head hunt.  I'm trying to get him to remember to also throw punches to the body.  Both boys had their hands down too often at the wrong times, and they did not use all of the room they had in the ring.

However, Devian threw enough punches to cause David's nose to bleed twice.  I have to give David credit.  He's had his nose bloodied up before, but he never cries, doesn't scream or yell.  He takes it and keeps going.  His mother jumped to attention to clean him up.

Today was one of those slow days when no one comes in to train.  I had a few inquiries about the program, and I washed the hand wraps.  Other than that, it was extremely quiet in the gym.  Once again, I made mental plans as to where I want the two combination speed bag/heavy bags stands that the park district ordered for the gym to be placed.  I smiled to myself when I noted that I might not have to worry about those stands or any other equipment being tampered with during next year's summer day camp.  I learned that the refrigerator in the kitchen on the other side of the gym has to be moved.  There's inadequate ventilation in that room.

That means no kids trampling over the gym area to get their breakfast, lunch and snacks during summer day camp.  That will certainly ease my mind, as well as save my vocal cords from screaming at the kids all day.

Birthday Boxing

Today was my birthday, and I received warm hugs from David, his cousin Darlene, and David's mom.  Darlene showed up earlier than usual, so she and David sparred.  My Spanish is not that good, but I could pick out that David's mom was telling both him and Darlene to be serious while they were in the ring. The kids were giggling throughout the three rounds they sparred.

Kody came in, but as usual, not much of a workout was done.  "I've been in boxing two years, right?" he asked me.  "No, it's been less than a year," I answered.  Then Kody pointed out that he had been signed up a few sessions before along with his brother Kyle and his cousin Deshaun.  It still hasn't been two years, just a little over a year.

A new kid who is signed up for the the winter session came in, and he has some skills.  He explained that he had been boxing from time to time with one of his cousins who boxes.  It did not take him long to get the concept of the punches.  Now all I have to do is help fine tune the skills he has.

I met the person who is the head of the area where the field house sits in.  "So you are the only female boxing coach with the park district?" she said.  She wants to come by sometime and observe the class.  I hope there are enough participants during whatever time she stops in so she can get a good idea of what goes on.

Admonished and Popped

Kathy shadowboxes shortly after her and I sparred.  She has shown vast improvement.  I was moving my head, and I managed to duck under some of her punches.  But I couldn't avoid all of the punches, however.  Kathy popped me straight in my nose and left me stunned.  If there had been just a fraction more of power behind that punch, comedian Chris Tucker would have been standing over me yelling, "Hillari, you just got knocked the 'eff out!"

Professor got a blast in on David in this photo.  But David is improving.

David was whopping on Ralphie as this photo was being shot.

Over the weekend, I met up with my oldest friend, Clintonia, whom I've known since Kindergarten.  Once again, she admonished me when I told her I had been sparring with the kids at my gym.  "Hillari, no!  Just no!  You don't need to end up with brain damage!  You could get a better job than being a boxing coach," she said.  I keep trying to explain the world of boxing to her, but she's not convinced that any of it is good.  She keeps trying to convince me to go back to substitute teaching.  I like working with kids in the boxing gym.  I gave up being a sub because I didn't like working with kids in regular classrooms.  Too much stress, frustration and unnecessary drama.  I respect teachers, but I don't ever want to do their job again.

"But you're not making money there," she said.  I admit that if I was working full-time at the hourly rate I get at the field house, I would be a little better off financially.  But it's not always about money.  Sometimes it's about enjoying doing what you like and being satisfied with that.

Creed and Coaching

Creed is part of the long running Rocky movie franchise, but it is different from the rest.  First of all, the main character is not Rocky Balboa, but Adonis Johnson (Michael B. Jordan) who is the son of Rocky's late friend and rival, Apollo Creed.  Adonis has been raised by his stepmom Mary (Phylicia Rashad).  Adonis was bouncing back and forth between foster care and juvenile hall after his mom passed, and Mary took him in.  Adonis walks away from a successful nine-to-five career to box full time.  He approaches Rocky to train him.

The fight scenes and training scenes were well-filmed.  As usual, people from the real boxing world -- Michael Buffer, Tony Bellew, Andre Ward, Max Kellerman, Jim Lampley -- were placed in the movie to give it authenticity.  This movie also proved why boxing movies continue to be made -- boxing is a metaphor for life.  Every character in the movie is fighting for and against something.

I watch boxing training videos on YouTube as much as I can.  I'm always made aware of how I need to constantly improve my coaching methods as well what the students in my classes need to learn.  When I see movies like Creed, I'm inspired even more to be the best coach I can be.

Erica's Killer Ab Workout

My body constantly reminds me that I'm not in as good of shape as I think I am.  While shadowboxing at Loyola Park, my right side kept bothering me.  It didn't start doing that until after I arrived at the gym.  I decided not to spar.

The guys -- Alan, Professor, David, Connor, Sanal, Leon -- sparred.  Connor was hit three times in his right side with hooks by Professor.  Alan told him, "You'd think that after three times, you would cover up!"

Sanal was pawing David most of the time when they sparred.  I wanted to tell him not to do that, but Alan and Leon were talking to him.  David had told Sanal beforehand that he was worried about Sanal throwing wild punches.  "If you go fast, I'll have to go fast, too," David said.

Leon took on Alan.  I watched carefully because Leon is a big, tall guy, and Alan is in his middle sixties.  "I don't want to have to call the hospital,"  I thought to myself.  It appeared that Leon wasn't hitting Alan as hard as he could have.  After two rounds, they were done because Leon was spent.

Erica called everyone into the ring who wanted to do an ab workout.  I scrambled in behind everyone else because I'm tired of people thinking I'm three months pregnant (yep, I've been asked a few times "when is the baby due?").  It was a hard workout of leg raises, ab punches, butterfly kicks, etc.  I've been working out five days a week for the past three weeks.  But it was clear that I need to do more work.

But now it's the holidays, and I've been nipping eggnog every day (not caring about my diabetes for the moment).  I'm still sticking to having meat only once a day, and upping the veggie and fruit content.  But there's not much I can do about getting older and slower other than deal with it and work with it accordingly.

Schooled On Angles

Kathy had been sparring with Erica at Loyola Park when she put her hands up in victory for this funny photo.

Erica was taking on everyone who wanted to spar, including me.  I had to compliment her on hitting on angles.  That's something I never really learned to do well.  She was coming at me from various places, and my old self couldn't keep up.  It put something on my mind -- I need to teach the kids at LaFollette how to work off of angles.

Connor wasn't putting his punches all the way out while sparring with Erica.  "I don't want you to knock her about, but you can hit her," Alan told him.  Erica quickly adjusted to inside fighting in order to deliver hits to Connor's body.  Afterwards, she commented, "Ooh. . .tall people!"  "I know," I laughed.  Erica is about my height.  Connor has to be a little over six feet.

I gave Salen, seen here on the red heavy bag, a quick lesson on wrapping his hands.  I found myself saying the same things I tell the kids at LaFollette.  "Put the loop over your thumb.  Now wrap it around your wrist three times.  Wrap it around your thumb once, then wrap it once again around your wrist to anchor it.  Okay, now wrap it three times around your knuckles.  Good.  From this point on, alternate between wrapping it around your wrist once and then your knuckles once until you get to the end.  Then finish it off at your wrist."

Mary noticed the cuts on Alan's nose from when he sparred with Minh.  "What happened?  Were you fighting?" she asked.  Alan explained about the head gear scraping against his nose.  Then he said, "Hillari hit me."  "Oh, you're gonna put that on me!" I laughed.  It occurred to me that Alan and I haven't sparred with each other for at least two years.  I miss that sometimes.

Jamil came in with his girlfriend.  Hadn't seen him for a long time, and it was very good to see him.  He asked about Ralphie.  Alan and I had to break the sad news that Ralphie passed on three years ago.  "He was the best," Jamil said.  Jamil wants to get back into the gym.  He was working hard when he was there before; it would be good for him to come back to it.

Trash Talking and Registration

There are plenty of professional female boxers that The Ring could have put on its front cover, not just this year, but in years prior.  Laila Ali, Ann Wolfe, Ana Julaton. . . .the list goes on and on.  Instead, Ronda Rousey, a MMA star, gets the cover because she's popular at the moment, and she's interested in boxing.

But then she faced Holly Holm, a former professional boxer who switched over to MMA, most likely because of more pay, and hopefully, more recognition.  Rousey lost in a stunning upset in the second round.  Rousey's usual trash-talking apparently did nothing to intimidate Holm.  I'm not here to bash Rousey.  She is good in her sport of choice.  But most MMA fighters don't have a good hand game or good ring generalship, both of which Holm has.  I'm hoping The Ring magazine -- which has hinted that they may "open the door" to more MMA coverage -- thinks long and hard about giving press to a sport that has nothing to do with boxing.

Now that I have the correct dates for the winter boxing classes, I will put in a request for a flyer to be made.  I'm going to include a line that states I will not take any new students once the winter session passes the halfway mark.  This current fall session is the last time I'm dealing with those who wait several weeks before deciding to sign up.  The less disruptions I have to deal with in the gym, the better.  I'm not a Chicago Public Schools teacher; I don't have to alter my lesson plans to allow students who are behind in their grades to play catch up.

In the case of the adults, it even makes less sense to allow someone to pay their money for a class that is halfway over.  The cost of the class will not be prorated, and the adults will have to turn around in a short time to pay the fee again for the next session.  I'd rather not have to deal with grumbling adults about that.

Two Times, Two Gyms

Today is Veterans' Day, and when the kids are out of school, the field houses are open.  It also means the field houses open and close at different times.   I had to be at work earlier than usual because LaFollette Park was closing earlier.

Only David showed up to train, and he put in nearly an hour and a half of work.  David has been trying so hard to master the speed bag.  He knows how to hit it with one hand at a time, but he's trying to learn how to use two hands to make the bag go faster.  I see his frustration, and I feel for him.  I give him tips to make it easier to get.  But I always remind him that it took me about a year to be able to hit the speed bag like that.

I also ran a slipping drill with him, something that I need to do with all the boxing participants.  David moved around the ring with his hands up, while I came at his head with the punch mitts on.  The object was for David to practice moving his head.  He's also been practicing slips on the cobra bag.

After I got off work, I went up to Loyola Park.  That field house opted to open later in the day, but close at its regular time.  The gym had several people present, then suddenly, they all disappeared.  Only Alan and I were in the room.  Then I realized that all of them had gone into the hallway in order to have room to jump rope.

"Look at my nose," Alan said to me.  A couple of days ago, Alan's nose got scratched while he was sparring.  It didn't happen while he was sparring with his son.  It probably happened during the time he was in the ring with Minh.  Alan continues to use the head gear that looks like a hockey mask in order to protect his eye.  The bars across the head gear must have scraped Alan's nose due to a blow.  When Alan took the head gear off, I noticed he was bleeding, and I pointed it out.  He just looked at me and shrugged his shoulders.  Today, Alan's nose looked more banged up.

"What did Reva say when she saw your nose?" I asked.  "It didn't look that bad the other night, but in the morning, it looked worse.  She gave me trouble about it.  'How old are you? You're a businessman!' she said.  What does one have to do with the other?" Alan said.  I chuckled, but I understood what Reva was talking about.  Alan is a salesman who calls on customers in person.  The customers might wonder, "What's up with this guy's face?"  But I'm sure Alan knows how to handle that. . .

I opted out of sparring again because my knees are still squishy.  I also knew that I would probably be sparring with David again later this week, so I decided to save my strength for that.

Sexism In The Boxing Gym

Coach James, who runs the football, basketball, and baseball programs at the field house, told me he had to defend my honor earlier yesterday.  A man who discovered that the boxing coach is a woman appeared to take offense at that.  "I applied for that job awhile ago!  That job should have been mine!  How they gonna give it to a woman?" the guy said.  Coach James told him that from what he could see, I was doing a good job.  "How can a woman teach men how to box?" the guy told him.

The guy showed up in the gym sometime later, giving me a long skeptical look.  When I told him I had been boxing since 2001, the guy seemed to fumble for a comeback.  Then he did what too many guys do, which is brag about what boxing experience he's had.  Uh-huh.  I learned a long time ago that many confuse briefly taking a few boxing classes before giving up with having a lot of fight experience.  Other people think the amount of street fights and schoolyard rumbles they've had constitute knowing how to box.

I'm used to the sexism in this sport to an extent.  But it irritates me all the same.  The guy offered to send some younger guys over to check out the gym and perhaps sign up for the program.  I appreciated the gesture, but he said, "I plan to volunteer, too."  Based on the guy's earlier comments to Coach James, I'm not so sure I want the guy as a volunteer.

Unfortunately, some men are always looking to undermine a woman's authority everywhere and at all times.  If the guy actually applies to be a park district volunteer and successfully passes the background check, I have a feeling I will have to keep reminding him who is the boss of the gym.  I already have my hands full dealing the kids.  I don't need to also have to explain manners and having respect for others to an adult.

The Guys' Turn To Spar

Lots and lots of sparring went on at Loyola Park.  Most of the guys there sparred; none of the women did.  Unlike last week, I resolved not to be tempted to spar.  I sparred seven times last week, at both Loyola Park and LaFollette Park. My middle-aged frame needed to cool it.

Matthew and Alan sparred.  Matthew also sparred with Leon.

Connor and Professor sparred.

Tony, Leon, and Minh on the gym floor.  Minh sparred with Alan.

Gabe came in, looking well.  He had been working in Hawaii for a few years, and now he's back in Chicago.

Gabby and David watch the action in the ring, while Erica works the heavy bag. David had sparred, too.  The gym was fairly crowded, and a good workout session was had by all.

No-Go Boxing Show

I should have paid attention to that little nagging feeling in my stomach that something would go wrong today.  According to the calendar of park district boxing shows, Humboldt Park was scheduled to have a show today.  I got down there and nothing was set up.

I called Tommy, who told me the Humboldt Park show had been canceled.  Fuller Park's show was being held instead.  I trudged back up to LaFollette Park and checked my work email.  There was no notification of that show being canceled.  I didn't get anything on my personal email, either.  It was just as well, because I didn't have anyone who showed any great interest in participating in that show.

Plan B was to salvage what was left of the work day.  A woman who had told me a couple of weeks ago about the son of a friend whom she wanted to get into boxing showed up at the gym.  Her friend's son, a sixteen-year-old with a smart-aleck smirk on his face, swaggered into the gym behind her.  "Here we go," I thought to myself.  I had already been told that the kid was a discipline problem at home and at school.  But after talking to the kid, I saw something there that I could possibly work with.  The fall teen boxing class is actually ending this month, not in December as I thought, so the kid will have to wait until January to join the class.  He wondered if there will be others in the class.  I couldn't give him an answer on that one.  But I hope attendance in the teen class picks up in the winter.

Sparring Time With The Girls

The boxing gym at LaFollette was very quiet yesterday.  Only the teen class had any activity.  Darlene, Ben (BJ), and Aylah showed up.  I did a round robin of sparring with the girls.  Ben opted to just do a workout instead of sparring.

Both Darlene and Aylah were apprehensive.  "No, Miss Hillari is going to beat us!" Aylah said.  "Please take it easy on me," Darlene smiled.  I promised to go light on the both of them.  "I'm not wearing headgear or a mouthpiece, so we're all have to go light," I told them.

I was tapping them while encouraging the girls to take harder shots.  I got a lot of taps in which prompted both girls to say,  "Miss Hillari, you're too fast!"  I did two rounds with Darlene, and one round with Aylah.  Then I had the girls spar each other.  Aylah is short and petite, so I advised her to throw more body punches at Darlene.  I told Darlene, who is taller, to keep the shorter girl away with her jabs.

It appears that De-Fetrick has effectively closed the door on himself.  The fact that the athletic cup he used at the Simons Park show hasn't been returned on top of De-Fetrick's lack of sportsmanship that day has forced me to deny him back into the gym.  If he shows up anytime before this fall session ends, I will also inform De-Fetrick that he can't sign up for the boxing program ever again as long as I'm the coach in that gym.  I've been tired of people thinking they can do whatever in the program, and I will make an example of De-Fetrick to prove to everyone that is not the case.

Kettlebells and Hits

I was not going to spar last night at Loyola Park.  My right shoulder was giving me problems, the left side of my upper back was acting up, and both of my knees were jelly.  But two new women in the gym, as seen in the above photo, sparred for the first time.  "You're just hitting each other's gloves," Alan said.  "Hit each other in the face!"  The women giggled, but they did not put more force on their punches.  "That's just pitty-pat.  If you all keeping doing that, I'm going to send Hillari in," Alan continued.  "Okay, I'll go in for a couple of rounds," I said.

"Hillari is actually going to hit you," Alan told both of the women.  I went one round with each woman.  I did get hits in, but I did not put great force on them.  Whenever Alan gave them instructions, I would turn down what I was doing to allow them to execute what he said.  Afterwards, one of the women said, "Sparring is not as scary as I thought it was going to be."

Leon, who neither Alan or I had seen in ages, stopped into the gym.  "I'm ready to do this, man.  I've thought about it, and I want to get back into the ring," he told Alan.  "But aren't you 90 years old?" Alan joked.  Leon insisted that this time, he was actually going to put the work in.  "I'm going to show you," he told Alan.  He promised to come in the next time the gym is open.

I read that Marlen Esparza lost one of the Olympic trial matches to qualify for competing next year.  She put up a video on social media to thank everyone who supported her.  I felt bad for her because she was very disappointed and sad.  It looks like the 2012 Summer Olympics -- where she won a bronze medal -- may be the first the only time she will compete on that level.

I've been observing Erica giving boxing tips to people in the gym.  If she wants to become a coach down the line, I believe that she would be a great one.  I'm also listening when she talks so I can help the kids I coach at LaFollette.

Alan let me use his kettlebell for exercise.  I had to struggle to swing it, and I didn't dare try to lift it over my head.  Alan's kettlebell is twenty-five pounds.  "I have to build up my strength more to do that," I told him.  Eventually I will purchase a few more lighter kettlebells for my gym, because I believe it will help the kids with strength and stamina.

No More Paper

The weather was winter-like today, and kids who are not in the boxing program are continuing to make a habit of attempting to use the gym as a hang out space.  No one showed up for the teen and adult classes, so I was quietly minding my business.  Then the bouncing of a ball interrupted my peace.  Kentrell, who bothers me like sandpaper against a blister, had a basketball in his hands.

"Do you have mouthpieces?" he asked me.  "Yeah, for the people who are in the boxing class," I said, giving the kid a hint that he did not take.  "Can I have one?" he asked.  "Uh, Kentrell. . . .you're not in the class.  I can't just give out mouthpieces," I said as evenly as I could.  I was reading a book to pass the time, having already put up the equipment for the day.  I had done a kettlebell workout.  I wanted to be left alone.

"I want to be in the boxing class," Kentrell announced.  I'm sick of that boy always coming to me with that every time he sees me.  There's no real interest in boxing on his part.  I know that from when Kentrell was in the class several sessions ago.  "For any activity in the park district, you must have a parent's permission to sign up.  Kentrell, you can't sign yourself up," I explained to him for the umpteenth time.  "Just give me me the paper.  My mama wants me in the boxing class," he whined.  "There is no paper anymore.  She either comes in person to sign you up or she gets on a computer and signs you up online," I told him.

Kentrell then decided he was going to goof around on the equipment in-between bouncing the basketball.  "This is not the basketball gym, so hold that ball.  And get off the equipment," I snapped.  Finally realizing that nothing was going to happen the way he wanted, Kentrell left.

It's a good thing that the park district has decided to go paperless.  When I first started, I handed out a lot of registration forms that never made it back to me.  Some of the kids kept telling me they wanted to be in the class, but the forms had been left at home, or at grandma's house, or they lost them.  Uh-huh.  Now if the parents truly are interested in their kids participating in any activity, they have to make an effort.  It appears a lot of the parents I deal with do not have a computer at home, so making an effort means having to interact with the staff.  It means actually getting information about the programs and activities so they know exactly what is going on.  It cuts down on confusion.

Or at least no one will have an excuse for not knowing the details.

Another Red Eye

Alan and Tony are all smiles in the above photo.  It was taken after Tony had sparred with Connor.  Alan joked with Tony about going into the ring with me.  Tony laughed, "Oh, no!  I don't want to end up bleeding!"

Normally, Loyola Park boxing gym is not packed around this time of year.  But last night, not only was it packed, but there were new people who had just signed up for the program.  A familiar face had also returned: Jason.

Jason was wearing a breathing mask that he said helps with his stamina.  The mask can be set to mimic high altitudes found in mountain areas.

I sparred with Celeste, and managed to catch her with a left uppercut.  "That uppercut was perfect," she told me later.  She got me in my left eye, and bopped me in the nose a couple of times.  I looked in the mirror and chuckled to myself.  David, over at LaFollette, had turned that same eye red when we sparred last week.  Celeste told me she needs all the practice she can get.  She's going out of town soon to compete in a boxing match.

"I'm surprised that Kathy didn't come in," Alan said.  He plans to take people to the Humboldt Park boxing show next week, and Kathy would be one of them. I'm hoping that one or two of the kids at LaFollette will want to fight at that show.  Unfortunately, I'm anticipating a problem with De-Fetrick, who's in the adult boxing class.

The athletic cup I lent him at the Simons Park show still hasn't been returned.  The last time De-Fetrick showed up, I explained that the cup was park district property that had to be brought back.  Then De-Fetrick disappeared for several days.  I tried calling his mom's house, but I couldn't get through.  I was able to reach his grandmother, who told me she would contact his mom about the cup. Alan suggested that I not allow De-Fetrick to work out until the cup is returned.  A few years ago, Alan had to tell one of the program participants not to come back to the gym after it was discovered they had stolen a pair of bag gloves.

When and if De-Fetrick comes to the gym again, I'm going to have to lower the boom if he doesn't have the cup with him.  I anticipate there's going to be an argument when I announce there will be no workout until the cup is returned.  But like Alan told the person who stole the gloves from Loyola Park, I can't have anybody around the gym who's walking off with equipment.  The park district is on a budget, and it is not easy to replace items that have been damaged or stolen.

I brought myself another set of kettlebells over the past weekend, so I'm donating a lone 10 pound kettlebell I have to the gym.  I've always wanted to teach the boxing participants how to use kettlebells.  Some of them may like that over using the free weights.

Diets and Cut Lips

Once again, no other kids showed up for the eight-to-twelve-year-olds' class other than David.  After he did his warm up and a few rounds of shadowboxing, he and I sparred.

Twice I was hit in my left eye.  In-between rounds two and three, I felt something wet on my bottom lip, but I didn't pay much attention to it.  A check in the mirror in the women's washroom afterwards revealed that my left eye was red, and my bottom lip had a cut on it.  All that from a shy nine-year-old.

David is improving.  He still needs to throw his jabs and rights straighter.  There was a bit of windmill action going on with his punches.  David knows how to back someone up into the corners and the ropes.  There were plenty of times when he kept coming forward while pummeling me.  I got in some uppercuts and hooks to the body, some straight punches to his face, and some hooks to David's head.  But my punches didn't have a whole lot of pepper on them.  I'm always afraid of hurting the kids, so I hold back when sparring with them.  But I allow them to get as many punches in on me as possible.

The upper left side of my back had been bothering me since before I left to go to work.  Finally I figured out I must have pulled something when I was throwing the medicine ball around yesterday with David's cousin, Darlene.  We were throwing the ball from our sides to each other.  A fourteen-year-old girl could do that without incident, but not so much a 53-year-old coach.  However, I couldn't back out on sparring with David.  I had promised him the day before that we would spar.

A couple of the kids, Kody and BJ, like to see how they can gross me out by telling me what they've been eating during the day.  Kody usually shows up with a huge bag of junk food: chips, cupcakes, and a large liter of pop to wash it all down.  BJ has called Kody out on his eating habits, but BJ loves eating a lot of chips and sugary snacks, too.

BJ always asks me about what is healthy to eat.  I'm no expert.  Just like the kids, I ate whatever I wanted to back in the day.  Unfortunately, as an adult, I learned too late that ignoring my family's tendencies towards high blood pressure and diabetes was not a good thing.  I don't get on the kids hard about eating certain things.  I preach moderation instead.  Better to have a little bit of something once in awhile, than to make it part of a daily diet routine.

My Toleration Levels Ain't That High

A woman inquired about getting her friend's sixteen-year-old son into the boxing program.  I was interested until she told me that her friend's son has a major behavioral problem.  Her friend appears not to have much control over her son's disrespectful and disruptive behavior.  As usual, it is assumed that boxing will take the place of counseling and just plain old-school discipline.

The last thing I need is another problem kid in the boxing gym.  I used to have a whole crowd of them when I first started working for the park district.  Most of them stopped participating in the program, and the others I weeded out.  I've got a good set of kids who currently come to the gym.  I don't want to see that balance upset right now.

It was nice of the woman to want to help her friend out.  I told her that I need permission directly from the kid's mom to put them in the class.  She thanked me and said she would pass along the class information to her friend.  However, I was already planning what to do in case the kid is signed up.  I already know that what his mama is putting up with, I will not tolerate.

Look Who Decided To Show Up

A mom walked into the gym with her very husky twelve-year-old son.  She wanted him to be in boxing, but the kid wasn't so sure.  I told the both of them that her son would be put into the teen class as opposed to the kids' class because of his size.

The other day, I told a couple that their eight-year-old could sign up, but their seven-year-old would have to wait a year.  If the younger kid's eighth birthday was coming up during the next three months, I would have green lighted his being in the class.  However, his birthday is not until late next summer.

The kids and teens' classes are separated largely because of ages, sizes, and weights. But even among kids in approximately the same age group, there can be wide variations, especially where size is concerned.  I also have to consider safety, especially in terms of sparring purposes.  I don't often like having to tell parents that all of their kids can't be in the same class, but rules have to be followed.

However, I do have some parents who have decided that their young kids are going to be in the teen class even though they aren't old enough and are small in size.  "My kid can't come to the earlier class because they don't get out of school until later," is the most common excuse given to me.  But it presents a problem where sparring is concerned.  I want to avoid mismatches as well as injuries whenever possible.

Near the end of the teen class, De-Fetrick decides to show up.  After the teens left, I asked him, "Where is the athletic cup I lent to you when we were at Simons Park?"  "I think it's at my grandmother's house," he answered.  What  in the eff is it doing over there? was on the tip of my tongue.  What actually came out of my mouth was, "It has to come back here.  That's park district property."

The security guard for the building and a staff member came down to the gym to check on me.  They had heard about De-Fetrick's antics at the boxing show, and pulled me to the side.  "Everything cool?" they asked, giving De-Fetrick suspicious looks.  "Everything's cool.  De-Fetrick can continue to train.  Just can't box in any of the boxing shows anymore," I explained.

De-Fetrick didn't apologize for snapping on me the night of the show. He just did his workout, and as usual, didn't seek out any feedback.  Remember, this is the guy who told me, "I learned how to box from watching TV."  Watching TV didn't get him a win that night.  As much as I have demanded apologies from people, especially from those who still owe me ones from things done years ago, I don't care about receiving an apology in this case.  Tommy is the one to whom De-Fetrick owes a major apology, as Tommy was extremely disrespected that night.  If De-Fetrick ever hopes to fight again in a Chicago Park District boxing show, he's going to have to talk to Tommy.

I'm not going to plead his case to Tommy, either.  According to the state of Illinois, De-Fetrick is legally grown at age nineteen.  Grown folks need to take care of their own business.

Now, A Word From Our Sponsors

Usually, I don't do endorsements on this blog, or at least, I haven't for a long time, but I've got to make a PSA that might help some readers out.  Since 2013, I've been involved with an online company called Strong Futures International (SFI).  They are one of the very few legitimate -- the magic word here -- companies where people can make some money online.  No, it is NOT a get rich quick scheme, nor is it a pyramid scheme.  It is free to join, and how far you want to go with it is up to you.  Check it out here and decide whether it would be a good fit: http://www.sfi1.biz/12698307.  End of commercial.

Professor showed up to Loyola Park last night with some good news.  He's has a new job that's paying him a nice piece of change.  Amen!  I believe in praising people who have come into good blessings.  I think a lot of people don't realize that praising others on their good fortune will return blessings to them as well.  It is always good to see someone who has been working for something for a long time finally achieve their goals.

It was mostly ladies' night.  There was a round robin of sparring between Kathy, Gabby, Celeste, Erica, and myself.  Erica got me in my head and jaw several times because of my habit of dropping my hands.  Since I'm not as fast as I used to be, it would pay for me to be a little better on defense.  Erica told me afterwards that I should have used the overhand right more.  Alan had told me that before I got into the ring, but I forgot to utilize it.

David and Professor had a short, but intense sparring session after the women were finished.  Then Professor held pads for Celeste.  Alan observed them and said, "Celeste is really coming along."  I agreed, as she was putting her punches solidly into the punch mitts.  

Meanwhile at LaFollette Park, I saw Eric in the hall a few days ago with his football gear on.  His dad was following him.  "They'll be back in the boxing gym," his dad told me about Eric and his other son, Aaron.  "They're just doing football now."  I nodded, but noted to myself that their dad signed up his sons for boxing knowing they were already involved with another sport.  I can't get mad it anymore because it happens so often with most of the kids.  However, I can't stop being disappointed at the low level of attendance in the gym.

I sparred with nine-year-old David the other day.  I felt it was unfair for him not to be able to spar because the other kids in the class don't show up as faithfully as he does, so I stepped into the ring with him.  David's confidence has gone up.  The kid also hits rather well.  One of his shots got me right in the nose.  

No sign of De-Fetrick, so it's probably safe to assume that he won't be in the gym anymore.  It's too bad.  If De-Fetrick hadn't been such a sore and unreasonable loser at Simons Park, we could have worked on techniques for the next fight.  

One, Then Two, Then One Again

David was the only kid who showed up for the eight to twelve year olds' class. David's mom remembered when David sparred with Johnathan.  "What happened to the other kids?" she asked me.  I shrugged my shoulders.  It would be nice if her son had other kids to work out with while he's there.  "Well, David gets the benefit of having the gym all to himself," I told his mom.

Darlene and a new girl, Aylah, were the only two who showed up for the teens' class.  I was hoping that Kody, who hasn't been around for a couple of days, would not come in to interfere with the girls' workout.  I got my wish.  Unfortunately, BJ didn't come in so the girls could have one more person in the gym to work with.

Alexis was the only one who came in for the adult class.  She was shaking her head when I told her about De-Fetrick's antics at Simons Park the other week.  "How do you get more adults to sign up for the class?" she asked me.  "It was easy to get the kids in.  I just passed out fliers at the schools, and word of mouth took over after that.  But it's hard to reach out to the adults," I answered.  Alexis pointed out that some adults aren't looking online to find out what is offered at the park district.  That's the problem nowadays.  Companies and organizations forget that everyone is not computer literate, everyone does not own a computer, and that everyone is not interested in learning anything about computers.  A lot of information doesn't get out to those who may be interested because people insist on putting everything online.

The three classes were easy to run today, but a lot more energy would be generated if everyone who is signed up would show up more often.

Three Strikes and Out

The photo above shows the ring in the boxing gym at Simons Park, where Marty is the coach.  I was at their boxing show.

I had a feeling that the evening would not go well.  Call it women's intuition, a hunch, or whatever.  I couldn't shake it off.  The first indication that my feeling was justified was when Eric failed to show up.  Just when I thought I had been stood up by my fighters again, De-Fetrick came in to weigh-in.  He was able to get a fight, which I was happy about.

De-Fetrick's fight was the sixth of the evening, and he was in the red corner.  I put the gloves on him in the middle of the fourth bout.  It took longer than necessary because De-Fetrick was playing around on his cell phone.  "Could you tape my fight?" he asked.  "I can't," I answered quickly.  "But all you have to do is to push--," he started.  I cut him off.  "I'm the coach.  I can't tape the fight and work the corner at the same time," I said, wondering why De-Fetrick's common sense hadn't kicked in.  He eventually found someone else to tape it.

Less than thirty seconds into the first round, De-Fetrick's opponent sent him down to the canvas with a straight right.  I winced.  Shifty, the referee, gave De-Fetrick an eight count.  Not long after the action resumed, De-Fetrick took another right to the face.  I knew Shifty was going to stop the fight, because my fighter was wobbling; the punch was a stunner.

De-Fetrick yelled and cursed at Shifty, demanding to know why the fight was stopped.  I demanded that he come back to the corner.  "It's over," I told him, but De-Fetrick didn't want to hear it.  "I don't understand that!  I still can fight!" De-Fetrick yelled.  My explanations about safety in amateur boxing, and the fact that De-Fetrick had been knocked silly had no effect.  "Why the eff did this happen?" he said to me, just as Tommy walked up to defuse the situation.  I took a step back on the apron and gave him a look.  There were so many things I could have snapped back, but I opted to keep quiet at that moment.

Tommy tried to talk sense to him, but that didn't take, either.  De-Fetrick snatched the second-place trophy from Shifty and stalked out of the gym area.  Moments later, he returned, watching the fight on his cell phone.  Ernest, the coach at Fuller, tried to communicate with him, but De-Fetrick waved him off.

A second later, he came to me, asking me to look at the video.  "I don't have to look at it, because I was standing in the corner.  I saw what happened," I snapped.  De-Fetrick then began to raise hell about "dirty fighting", accusing Shifty and the other fighter of not playing fair.  He had the colossal nerve to tell me that I didn't understand what he was trying to say.  "What do you think boxing is?  You can't get angry every time you lose a match!  This is what happens during matches!" I yelled back.

Tommy heard us and came over to intervene.  "I'm not going to argue with you.  I'm done," I told De-Fetrick.  Tommy tried to explain the rules again to him, but all he got for his efforts was an attitude. My fighter told Tommy to "eff off".  De-Fetrick was told to leave the premises.

Now he is not able to fight in any Chicago Park District boxing shows.  I technically can't put him out of my gym, but after tonight's antics, I don't really want De-Fetrick around me again.  The whole situation was embarrassing.

Just Got It, Now It's Gone

The hyperflex (Cobra) bag you see here in this photo is no more.  I was standing over the ruins of it just several hours ago.

BJ and Darlene came in for the teen boxing class, and it looked like Kody wasn't going to make it in.  But Kody always comes in late, usually riding his bike into the gym, which he did.  When Kody began interfering with BJ and Darlene's workouts, I told him to stop and go do his.  Kody got on the hyperflex bag, bending it way further than it normally is supposed to go.  "I just got that bag, Kody.  If it comes up broken, trust me -- it won't be replaced," I warned.

I was helping Darlene on the speed bag, but I could hear Kody hitting the hyperflex bag.  Then I heard something pop and hit the floor.  I noticed Kody quickly moving away from the bag.  A check of the bag revealed that one of the knobs used to adjust the height had been broken.  When I partially dismantled the bag to check for further damage, the pole on the inside was completely broken in half.  There was nothing I could do to repair it.

"Thanks for breaking the bag, Kody," I said sarcastically.  "I didn't break it.  I was only exercising on it," he claimed, not realizing that I saw him leaving the scene of the crime.  "Kody, you were the last one on it.  Now no one can use it anymore," I shot back.  I was pissed, but I kept calm on the outside.  Only one working hyperflex bag is left in the gym now.  I had a feeling that I should not have put both of those bags out on the floor.  Unfortunately, I expected that kids would respect the equipment.  I made a misjudgment.

My boss is not going to be happy that bag is broken, either.  Alexis suggested that we could send the bag back for a replacement, but I doubt that's going to be an option.  To be honest, I didn't want the hyperflex bags; I didn't ask for them.  They were ordered for the gym, and I accepted them when they arrived.  But now I know that a) I need to be in on all decisions about what equipment goes into the gym, and b) I need to make sure the equipment that is ordered is extremely hard for the kids to break.

Wisdom From George

A friend from high school, Donna, donated the stand in the photo above.  The Chicago Park District ordered two more similar stands for the gym.  Steve told me that someone has to come in with tools to assemble them.  I would like to see those stands up before Thanksgiving.  The more equipment up in the gym, the more of a recruiting tool I have to get people to sign up for the program.

On my way to the gym yesterday, I ran into George, who runs the boxing gym at Garfield Park.  He's going to retire soon; the paperwork has already been put in.  I hope the gym over there doesn't disappear after he's gone.  It has a history as being one of the best boxing gyms in the Chicago Park District.  I wouldn't want that space to be used for another purpose like what happened to the boxing gym at Clarendon Park.  "Don't let them kids drive you crazy," George told me before he got off the train.

I'm trying not to let any of the kids and teens do that.  For example, I like Kody, but as soon as he shows up for the teen class, control goes out the window.  BJ and Darlene are the only other ones who show up regularly for that class.  They are usually good about sticking to their workout.  Then Kody, who barely does anything that looks like training in the gym, comes in and starts goofing around with them.

Just recently, Kody told me that if his mom asks how he's doing in the gym, I should say that he's doing well.  But I'm not going to lie to her about her son's behavior.  Kody's never been that serious about the sport. The kid shows up each time with a bag filled with junk food and a liter of soda pop on him.  Even BJ and Darlene have pointed out to Kody that the food he has is not healthy.  If I had more teens in that class who were interested in learning, Kody would have to tone down his antics.  The other kids would not put up with Kody distracting them.

People have been roaming into the gym at LaFollette a lot recently.  That is just a hint of what I'll have to put up with once it really gets cold outside.  Some guy who knew better waltzed into the gym and started fooling around on the flex bags.  I had to tell the guy to get off of them -- twice.  "I want to be a professional boxer," he told me.  I explained that the park district only deals with amateur boxing.  "I've already done that," he said.  "Oh, yeah?  When?" I asked dryly.  I didn't get an answer.  Neither did I get a response when I told the guy he would have to pay to be in the class.  If I had a dollar for everyone who walks into a boxing gym trying to impress someone with alleged experience, I could have retired a long time ago.

A little boy strolled into the gym awhile later and started messing with one of the flex bags (Cobra bags). I didn't get a good look at who the kid was.  Before I could say something, Kody had ran the child out of the gym.  "Why did you do that?" BJ asked him.  "I know that kid, and the kid was acting up," Kody said.  Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.

Two women expressed interest in signing up for the adult class.  I hope that means that class is beginning to grow.  If the women sign up that will helpful to Alexis, who is the only adult who shows up on a regular basis.  De-Fetrick keeps disappearing, and I think Dan has given up -- again -- altogether.

Eric had a football game yesterday, so neither he or his brother Aaron came to the gym.  Eric expressed an interest in fighting at Simons Park's boxing show tomorrow, so he needs to appear at the gym today.

The Boss Said "Merry Christmas"

When I arrived at LaFollette Park, Steve the supervisor said, "Merry Christmas!"  I finally received two portable equipment stands that were ordered by the park district weeks ago.  I also received two cobra bags.  The stands will have to wait to be assembled.  I was able to assemble one of the cobra bags.  I'll assemble the second cobra bag tomorrow.

Another teen, Damari, signed up for the class.  He had been talking about coming to the gym since last year.  He's got good punches from what I've seen so far.  I wonder how long he'll keep attending the class, however.  Damari plays basketball, too, and that season is beginning soon at the park.

Simons Park's boxing show is next week.  I know that Eric and Aaron want to fight in it.  They weren't in class, but the other kids I mentioned the show to didn't want to get matches.  BJ keeps telling me he's not ready.  "The last park district show we're going to this year after Simons is at Humboldt Park," I told him.  Most of the kids want to see the show, but not participate in it.  I guess I will close down the gym that day so we all can go.

David was particularly interested in what trophies boxing show winners get.  He might change his mind and take a fight; who knows?  But his mom may have her reservations.  She usually comes to the gym with her son.  When David sparred for the first time, his mom was nervous about it.  She understood what it was about, but like a lot of moms, she still considers her son to be her little baby.