Coaches' Heartbreak

Finally figured out how to get photos off of my raggedy cell phone.  The picture above is of Barry and I during an opening party for Fernando Rivera's boxing gym in Evanston.  I believe the party was last summer.

Yesterday, only Brenan and Suave showed up for the youth class at my gym.  I can't seem to get Brenan out of the habit of running from an opponent and turning his back.  Whenever Brenan turned his back, his hands were down.  He'd look over his shoulder, and Suave would catch Brenan in the face with one or more punches.  "His nose is bleeding," his dad said.  "Again?" I replied.  The sparring went on for another round.  Suave was feeling very confident at the end, I could tell, but Brenan was sniffling as tears rolled down his cheeks.

Today, Earl showed up -- late -- and (in my Gomer Pyle voice) surprise, surprise, had his mouthpiece.  But the only other two who came to class, Brenan and Suave, did not have theirs, so Earl was out of luck that time.

Nay came in late for the adult class.  But I have to give her credit because she is focused.  Her form is not bad.  Nay and I have something in common.  The both of us were always in fist fights with others when we were younger.  I don't see a lot of fear in her when it comes to throwing punches, and that is a plus.  Too bad that the others in the adult class don't come in regularly or else, she could spar.

Suave said something about wanting to switch to MMA.  On top of TJ and Earl telling me they may not sign up for the summer class, all I could do is sigh inwardly.  It's heartbreaking when you have kids who have potential, but they decide not to continue on in the sport.  Sometimes, they return.  Most of the time, the kids get lured away by another activity or sport, never to look back.  It leaves the coach to wonder what might have been.

I threw my old boxing shows out today.  It was time.  The left shoe was really banged up, and I couldn't figure out why.  The sole was completely worn down, while the right sole didn't have much wear and tear.  The right shoe did have other spots where it was wearing away.  Well, in order to receive something new, I have to throw something away.

"Am I Bleeding?"

Pedro sparred with Gabriel, but I didn't see much of it because I was in the mirror, throwing absent-minded punches at the air.  My focus just wasn't there.  I didn't stretch, nor had much of a warm-up before I agreed to spar with Amanda.  It would cost me, but I'll get to that later.

Amanda has a hard right, and she throws it from an angle that is hard for me to avoid.  The best I can do is put my left arm up to block it.  She can move quicker than I can, so I lot of my overhand rights and body shots found no target.  I just stood in one spot a lot and took punches.

Amanda covered up well in this photo, but I noticed she was turning her head away from incoming punches.

I got maybe one or two light right hooks in.  But I surprised myself by getting in two left hooks in succession to Amanda's head.  She dropped her hands at the wrong time, and I decided to use a punch I always have difficulty in getting in.  Amanda shook them off, however, and kept going.  She put in a straight right to my face that was effective.

After two rounds, Amanda was done.  The weather wasn't so bad outside, but the gym had retained the heat from last week's high temperatures.  I could feel it in my headgear, and sweat was pouring.  Alan went to my locker and pulled out Kevin's old headgear to do another couple of rounds with me.

There was a little bit of energy in me during the first round Alan and I sparred.  I got in right hooks to his head and body, and backed him up against the ropes a few times.  Alan always bounced up and answered my punches.  During the second round we sparred, I acted a little too careful, while Alan picked his shots at will.  I wasn't trying hard enough to get in close.  Alan was near the ropes, so I thought I'd pressure him back on them so I could unload some combinations.  I moved closer, but my hands were down.  Alan reached in with a left uppercut that landed under my nose.

The next moment, I was laying on the canvas on my side with my eyes closed shut.  I wasn't knocked out, but the hit to my nose had shook me up.  "Ohhh, that was a good one, Alan", I said.  "Alan!  Get down on the canvas and put your ankle under her legs!" I heard Colonel say.  Alan tried it, but then Colonel got in and elevated my legs so they were resting on his bent knee.  Tyson, Gabriel, and Sebastian got into the ring.  "Are you okay?" they all asked.  "I think so.  Am I bleeding?" I asked.  It was a silly question for me to bring up.  Colonel had me lay on my back, and I felt blood running down the back of my throat.

"I didn't hit you that hard," Alan said, and he was right.  That punch wasn't as hard as he could have thrown it.  But it was perfectly timed, and it caught me at the right moment.  Tyson and Sebastian help me sit up, and Gabriel had ran out to get some paper towels from the washroom.  As soon as I sat up, I saw drops of blood splashing on my shirt and onto the canvas.  Gabriel returned with the towels, and I was shocked at all the blood I saw after I wiped my nose.  All I could do was laugh at myself.  Colonel and Alan helped me to stand, then I went and sat down in front of the lockers.  Colonel lent me a towel of his to catch the blood that was still running.

In twelve years of boxing, that was the first time anyone had bloodied up my nose.  I was through for the rest of the evening.  I just sat and watched everyone else working out.  Right now, my nose still hurts, mostly on the right side.  I expect some swelling tomorrow, as well as some head-shaking from Pastor Roger, if he happens to notice it.  I'm happy that it doesn't appear to be broken, and I can breathe through it, which means that surgery I had years ago to fix my deviated septum must be holding up.

"My nieces are supposed to be coming with me to the gym on Wednesday.  They might not want to come when they hear about this," I joked to Alan.  "They might show up with a baseball bat for me.  Riva's going to curse me out when she reads your blog," Alan joked back.