Ring Action on Halloween

As I approached the entrance to the field house on Halloween, I kept looking around and over my shoulder.  On the way home from work, I passed many kids doing the trick or treat business.  I just wanted to make sure that the same kids weren't outside the field house armed with eggs.

In the photo above, Kenny and Franco mix it up during sparring.  Kenny was yelling directions at Franco like he usually does whenever he's in the ring sparring with most everybody.  Franco did get some good hits in, but Kenny was tagging him more often.  I saw Alan lift up Franco's headgear in between rounds to wipe his nose with a towel.  The headgear Franco wears has a big bar across it to cover his nose.  Apparently, it still wasn't enough to prevent Kenny from popping Franco enough to cause a little bleeding. 

As Kenny and Franco started sparring, the song "It's A Thin Line Between Love and Hate" by the Intruders, began to play on Colonel's boom box.  I thought that was funny.

Kenny was asking his friend Harold -- who had also come in on Monday -- if he wanted to get some sparring in after Franco was finished.  Harold didn't answer right away, and I was suited up, so I got in with Kenny.  I like to spar, and some people offer up more of a challenge than others.  Once in awhile, I can get hits in on Kenny, but not often.  He's very quick on his feet and with his hands.  I learned early on that it was futile for me to chase him around the ring.  We would have continued, but Kenny's thumb -- the one he accidental cut the tip off of last week -- started bothering him, and we had to stop.

Then Harold -- the guy standing in this photo -- decided, what the heck.  He'd get into the ring with me.  Colonel told me, "Don't hurt the guy.  This is his first time boxing."  But Kenny whispered to me, "Tap him hard once!"  I got in a right hook, and a good straight right to Harold's stomach.  Otherwise, I went as easily as possible.  Harold kept turning his back on me, and Alan, Kenny, and Colonel kept warning him not to do that.  We only did one round.

Afterwards, Harold said, "I wasn't prepared for that.  That's a workout!" He didn't want to hit hard, because Harold said that's not what he's about.  He wants to learn the techniques.  He told me that I hit hard, and I gave my usual stock answer about having inherited my father's heavy hands.  Harold has known Kenny since they were both in 8th grade.

Rich is getting better each time he's at the gym.  Kenny asked me, "Who's that big dude who used to come in here and pick on everybody?"  "Oh. . .Leon," I answered.  "Rich could knock Leon out!  They would be a good match for each other," Kenny said.  I believe they would.  Rich really listens when Alan, or Kenny or Colonel give him instructions, and he learns fast.

Yet another picture that shows further proof that I'm very short.  Alan and I play around for the camera.

This double end bag really gives a good workout.  Colonel saw me working on it, and he said the bag was a good one for me because it's more of a reflex bag.  I gave tips to Owen how to use it.  "It works almost on the same principle as the speed bag," I told him.  "I've never used the speed bag -- yet," Owen admitted.  He tapped the double end bag a few times, but gave up on it for the moment. 

When not sparring or working with Kenny on technique, both Franco and Owen (pictured above) spend a lot of time in the hallway outside of the gym.  They jump rope, and they work a lot each other on the punch mitts.

Earlier in the evening, Alan was changing his clothes at the coach's desk.  I was watching, waiting for him to pull his pants off so I could say something smart.  I was in the ring shadow boxing.  Alan must have read my mind, because he smiled and gave me a sign to turn in the other direction.  So I smiled back and complied.  When I turned back around, he had his workout shorts on.  "I was going to make a remark as soon as you pulled those pants down," I laughed.  He pulled his shorts a bit just enough for me to catch a glimpse of the color of the boxer shorts he was wearing.  "See?  The shorts are nothing," he grinned.

Not long ago, I was riding on a bus to somewhere.  A woman got up to give me her seat because she thought I was pregnant.  Now looking at this photo, I really see how she believed that.  Eggnog season is around the corner. . . .sigh.  I really need to whittle my middle down. 

The plan is for those who want to get a fight to head up to Seward Park next week for their boxing show.  Alan is going to put in a call to see what possible match ups are available there.  I've fought at Loyola, Hamlin and Brooks, but never at Seward.  I don't remember any women who trained there, but it may be a different story this time. 

Grabbed By The Neck

I heard footsteps going towards the Pastor's office on Tuesday, but I hadn't heard the doorbell.  I was the only one in the church building at the time, so I had to investigate.  Pastor Roger was in his office; he just came through another entrance.  "You were going to get beat down.  I didn't know who that was walking up here," I half-joked.  I came into church this morning to do some extra work on the annual business reports.  Pastor came in and called out from down the hall, "Hillari?"  "Yeah?" I called back.   "It's me.  Don't beat me up," he responded. 

Michael, Jeremy and I were the first ones in the gym this past Wednesday.  "My arms are still hurting.  I overdid it while I was shadowboxing on Wednesday," he groaned.  He said his arms felt heavy from having to hold them up.  It's a common complaint of those who are new to the sport.  "They'll feel like that at first, but after awhile, you'll get used to it," I assured him. 

Later in the evening, Janay showed me her knuckles and said they felt raw.  "Should I not be hitting with them?" she said.  She had been trying out the double end bag.  Her hands were wrapped up.  "No, you're supposed to use your knuckles.  They'll be like that for awhile, then you won't feel it," I said.  "They'll get calluses," she joked.

Carlos came in, explaining he'd been out due to a hand injury.  "I had a knife in my hand, and I wasn't holding it right while I was sharpening it.  The next thing I knew, I had sliced my hand open.  Had to go to the emergency room and get stitches."  He showed me his left hand, and the cut was scabbing over, a sign that it was healing.  "How's Justin?" I asked.  "I've been having him do exercises at home.  He gets tired afterwards and wants to go to sleep.  He doesn't even want to come here with me to the gym anymore," Carlos said.  "He probably thinks you're going to make him work out here, too," I grinned.

Ed came in, and he sparred with Carlos, Jamil and Ralphie.  Ed is quick.  While he was in the ring with Jamil, I observed how he carefully watched Jamil for openings, then took advantage of them.    The newer guys in the ring watched their sparring with interest.  I overheard Ed saying that he was planning to compete in the Golden Gloves again. 

Carlos ended up with a bloody nose again, but I don't think Ed was the one who gave it to him.  Carlos had sparred with Ralphie, too, so that's when it may have happened.  "Is your nose okay?" I asked.  "Eh, I have a few bloody boogers, but I can breath," Carlos replied with a grin. 

I begged off sparring, but maybe I shouldn't have.  I didn't spar last week.  Oksana didn't come in Wednesday, and I was thinking that maybe we could have sparred.  I told Alan I have to work my way up to it again, and he smiled at that.  In reality, I wimped out.  The guys who sparred that night seemed to have a lot of energy, and I had a feeling that I just might have taken some bad hits if I had gotten into the ring with them.  Boxing is a sport where people get hurt, and yes, that was a silly thought for me to have.  But sometimes, it is better to listen to your instincts.

Alan and I worked on the punch donut.  He had backed into one of the corners as I pounded away.  Suddenly, he reached out his hand, took me by the back of my neck, and turned me around quickly.  I ended up being flinged into the corner.  Good thing I had decided to take my glasses off before we got into the ring.  "That's an illegal move.  You can't do that in amateur boxing," Alan grinned.  That's would be a good move to remember to use in a street fight, however. 

Gym Set Up

This past Friday was a quiet night as few showed up to work out. It's nice when it's not as crowded, especially since it is a small space. The gym is tucked way in the back of the Loyola Park Fieldhouse, near a back door that is only supposed to be used for emergencies. Sometimes I think people aren't aware we're back there except for the sound of the bell. Unlike the other programs I've noticed, particularly the ones the kids are in, we're not roaming up and down the halls incessantly.

To the left when you walk in is Steve's desk. I've never seen that desk when it was completely clear of boxing magazines and catalogs, flyers for boxing events, notes to and from Barry, photographs, coaches' guidelines, etc. The drawers are filled with tools, old boxing licenses, pens, pencils, paper, etc. A TV/VCR combo sits on the far right side of the desk. It's a little tempermental, but is useful for its purpose. A cabinet sits to the left of Steve's desk. It is filled with boxing magazines, tools, cleaning supplies and various other items. To the right of Steve's desk are a few lockers. My locker is the last one on the end. I used to share it with Junior and with Sadiq, but neither of them keeps their stuff in there. Steve's locker is the first one on the other end. I'm not sure to whom the other lockers in-between belong to, but they are always locked.

To the right of the main door is a coat rack and a garbage can. There's always shirts and jackets and other clothes on there that I assume belong to the kids -- who come in on Tuesdays and Thursdays -- accidently leave behind. Underneath the coat rack is a box filled with miscellaneous clothes. A board of photographs from days past in the gym are behind the box.

The main floor has two heavy bags hanging. One heavy bag is leaned up against the cabinet where the bag gloves, cups and chest protectors are kept on the left side of the gym (if you are facing the main door). Three mirrors -- two mounted on the walls, and an oblong one in the middle that sits on the floor -- are to the right of the bag gloves cabinet. Various jump ropes hang off of of the cover to the second mounted mirror. To the left of the bag glove cabinet is a speed bag. The speed bag platform is very old, and can't be adjusted. I always have to stand on one of the step risers nearby to reach it the bag. The bell sits on top of an old heavy bag that has been turned on its side. It used to sit on a little table, but that broke several months ago. A T-shirt sits in front of the bell to muffle some of the loudness. A few free weights sit on the floor nearby.

Next to the speed bag is a door that leads to the basketball gym. That door is kept locked most of the time except if we have to enter and exit through it. Sometimes, the main door sticks and doesn't open, or if Steve is not in, staff doesn't always have access to another key to open it. Usually, an old tire is stationed in front of the door, if it is not on top of the speed bag platform.

Next to the basketball gym door, on the left, is a bulletin board. Pictures of current and past boxers, in the gym, at boxing shows and at tournaments, dot the board. Pictures of Steve's little boy and Neil's little boy are up, and there's a picture of me at my job wearing headgear and boxing wear. A diagram of how to wrap one's hands is posted near the bottom.

Below the bulletin board is the sparring glove table. Underneath the table are two step risers. Next to the table is a headgear tree, and a little cabinet with water bottles and Vaseline. On the other side are a couple of spit buckets.

The ring sits flat on the floor and takes up the second half of the gym. On the right side are chairs for observers to sit. On the left side are two more equipment cabinets, plus a radio/tape/CD combo that is always tuned to the popular music stations. Behind the ring is a blue mat, a hanging uppercut bag, and several medicine balls. In the far corner to the right is an old, worn out stand-alone heavy bag which no one uses. A set of double doors behind that bag lead to the weight room, but it is always locked. In order to enter that room, we have to exit the gym into the basketball gym, walk a few feet, and go into another door.

In front of the ring to the left is a double end bag. Usually, a couple of chairs are nearby, either by the ring or in front of the lockers.

There are two fans in the gym, neither of which gives a lot of relief when it is hot. One fan is very old, and was probably there when the building was first built decades ago. The second is a box fan that I donated. It had belonged to my late sister, and I already had a few fans in the apartment. There are windows in the gym, which have to be opened with a hook because they are high up. We're careful to close them at the end of the night, or else Barry will have a fit.

Boxing posters and annoucements about matches cover the walls. One of my favorites is a Nike poster which shows Muhammad Ali during a match with Sonny Liston. Liston is not shown in the picture, but the shot was taken after Ali -- then Cassius Clay -- knocked him to the canvas and yelled, "Get up!" The caption on the poster reads, "Impossible Is Nothing". There's a boxing match announcement with a picture of Erin's uncle on it when he was a contender back in the day. One match from years ago announces that Mike Tyson would be fighting at a local church gym. I'm assuming that was long before his fame/notoriety. A signed poster of Roy Jones Jr. sits near the basketball gym door. There are also articles about local boxers and boxing matches up on the walls.