Enthusiasm On A Saturday

Like too many mornings lately, I woke up in a bad mood.  The constant noise from workmen renovating apartments in my building annoyed me, and it wouldn't allow me to have some extra shut-eye.  A sense of sadness was present in me over Whitney Houston's funeral taking place today, which brought back memories of my youngest sister and paternal grandmother, both of whose deaths took place this month.  Other long standing irritations and frustrations began to gnaw at me as soon as my clock alarm went off.   I forced myself out of bed, remembering that Brandy and I had agreed to go to the Golden Gloves sign up today at Gordon Tech High School together.

Brandy's enthusiasm for the tournament helped to shake me out of my doldrums.  She and her boyfriend Nick drove to my house on time along with their adorable dog Biscuit.  We arrived at Gordon Tech to find a handful of people in line.  It was early in the morning; I suspected that most would trickle in later throughout the day.  Alan had told me he would go in tomorrow to renew his coach's license. 

Familiar faces manned the sign up tables including Sam, Tracy, Tina, and Rita.  All I had to do was write a check to renew my coach's license, and I was done.  Brandy had to fill out several forms, plus have her picture taken.  As the photo was being done, Sam commented to the official tournament photographer, "Now that's a million dollar smile!"  There were a lot of questions on the form that I didn't remember being on the boxers' form last year. One question asked if the boxer had taken up the sport to get away from gang banging.  Brandy couldn't believe that was on the form and we both found it funny.  "We laugh, but for some of these guys, that is the reason why they got into boxing," I said. 

Brandy mentioned that boxing had given her more confidence since she became involved in it.  As an example, she told of a situation at work where another co-worker had disrespected her.  She confronted them right then and there, something she didn't feel comfortable about doing in the past.  I could relate.  At previous jobs I had before the last job where I was laid off from, I had been somewhat of a doormat.  The sport helped me develop a backbone to stand up to the six years of nonsense that my former boss and some other co-workers there were constantly perpetrating and expecting me to sign off on. 

Looks like Brandy is the only participant in the tournament from the adult boxing program this year.  After weighing in, Brandy learned that she only has to come down five pounds to fit into a weight class.  I don't think it'll be hard for her to do.  I did suggest that she do some extra training outside of the gym, since we're only there two days a week.  "Cut the carbs, cut down on the bread and pasta, and if you're drinking pop, cut that out.  Eat more veggies and fruit," I said, thinking that I need to take that advice as well.

Better To Walk Out Than To Be Carried Out

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

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

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

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

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

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

Boxing to the Oldies

It was the day before Thanksgiving, and most were out because they started their festivities early.  None of the other women were there, so I was it in terms of representing the female component.

Colonel (in the photo above) came in with several of his CDs.  He had been threatening to bring in some oldies for weeks, and he brought in some good ones.  The greatest hits of Rare Earth, Jr. Walker and the All Stars, and Sly and the Family Stone were played.  Alan said to me, "I like this music better than what is usually played."  Nate Jr. and Tall Kenny came to the gym to work out, and they had initially cut on the radio which is perpetually stuck on the hip-hop/dance/house music channel.  Colonel's old school stuff was a welcome change from that.

Ralphie came in later.  Alan had been hoping that Ralphie would come in earlier to spar with Reggie.  Instead, Reggie sparred with Kevin.  Kevin did not hang back on the ropes as much, but he was talking about how hard Reggie hits.  

I was on the bags, then shadowboxing a lot on the ring.  I think that I don't throw my right hand as nearly as much as I throw my jab.  I concentrated on my right hand and executing hooks and upper cuts.  Colonel showed me how to bend my knees a little then come up as I throw uppercuts to put a little more force behind them.

Two Chicago cops came in to observe what was going on.  One cop had been in there before, but his partner looked new to me.  Colonel and Alan always engage the cops in conversations when they come in.

In this photo, Kevin helps Nate Jr. put on his gloves (Alan, who's in the background, is shadowboxing in the ring)..  Tall Kenny and Nate Jr. could have sparred, but they said that Barry would rather they not do that unless he's there to monitor it.  I've always known Tall Kenny to tower over me, but I remember when Nate Jr. barely reached my shoulder.  Now I have to look up to him. 

I've been skipping Tuesdays on my exercise schedule; this week was no exception.  I have to make up that day tomorrow, so I guess whenever I get up, I'll pop a DVD in and do a quick workout.  Hopefully, it'll counteract the pounds I'm sure to gain.  My stepmother is a good cook, and I'll be having dinner with her sometime later.

Sparring All Around

I turned on the fan that's built into the back window of the gym, as well as the box fan.  It didn't do much.  Ray commented, "You can just stand around and sweat and lose calories in here!"  Despite of the heat, the gym was well attended tonight.

Taheerah and Ursula sparred.  Taheerah kept coming forward.

 

Then I got into the ring with Taheerah.  I put out as many straight punches as possible, including an overhand right.  The video clip of us sparring looks odd because Alan was holding my camera, and he hasn't quite got the hang of how to operate it.  Plus, I had problems uploading it, so it's not featured here.

After some coaxing by Leon, Jimmy agreed to spar with him.  Alan got into the ring to referee, and he had to warn Leon several times to go easy.  Jimmy did take a shot to the side.  "He didn't hit me as hard as he could have, but I feel it," Jimmy told me later.

Matt, Alan's son, came in, and he sparred with Oscar.  Matt plans to go to college for a year here in Illinois, then transfer.  He's eyeing a kickboxing team at a school out in California.

Ray and Alan had a great sparring session -- with no headgear -- which ended prematurely because Ray slipped and fell.  Ray got in a nice, crisp uppercut on Alan right before Ray fell. Kenny, Oscar, and Marcus also sparred, so the ring was used a lot tonight.

A Little Training and Some Fish

Janay came in just as sparring had begun between Ed and Jamil.  I showed her how to do hooks.  We also reviewed the left jab and right cross, which Alan had taught her the week before. 

My own workout took a little time to get into.  It felt like I hadn't done anything in awhile, even though I exercised six days out of the previous week.  I gained ten pounds back over the holidays, and those pounds
-- plus a lot more -- have to come off. 

There's a ten-pound medicine ball in my apartment which I haven't used since I brought it a few years ago.  If I remember on Wednesday, I'll donate it to the gym.  I was going to give away some of my old dumbbells, too.  While exercising to a walking DVD on Saturday, I made use of them, so I decided that it's worth keeping them. 

Fish kept popping into my mind while I was at the gym last night.  There is a bag of fish sticks in my freezer, and I thought they would go well with the Ceasar salad I brought.  When I opened the refrigerator upon returning home, I saw a catfish fillet, so on the ol' George Foreman grill it went.  I truly don't like to cook, and I'm not good at it.  But it's easy making food on that grill, especially where fish is concerned.  Catfish was a huge staple of my diet last year, but then it became too expensive to buy all the time.  Beef is a favorite of mine, but fish does need to be a bigger part of my diet, along with veggies.  Unlike fish, I have to force myself to eat vegetables.

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.

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.