My Story

Someone on another blog I frequent asked me to print one of the stories I sold to a confession magazine. This is my original; the magazine brought all rights, so they've changed the names and some other details, including the title. Enjoy. Comments welcomed.

UNEXPECTED OFFICE AFFAIR
Mom told me the day I married to my high school sweetheart, "Keep your affections at home."

I was so caught up in the happiness of that day that I didn’t give much thought to what she said. Her saying came back to me during the summer Doris Jones entered my life. Doris became my assistant not long after my former assistant, Maggie, retired after thirty years of service to the company. Maggie was a good worker, but she wasn’t the friendliest person in the world. She was assigned to me when I was promoted to one of the managers’ positions at the Construction Company where I had worked since I graduated from high school. Other than "good morning" and "good night", Maggie and I didn’t talk much other than about work. When Doris came in to interview, she impressed me right off. She projected an air of confidence and had an easy, lilting laugh. More important than that, she set me at ease. When our meeting was over, she stood up and gave my hand a firm shake, her green eyes never leaving mine.

"It was a pleasure talking to you, Mr. Stallworth. I hope that we see each other again." She gave my hand a little extra squeeze—or I imagined she did—and she was gone.

No sooner than she had left, I was on the phone to Human Resources. I wanted her to start as soon as possible.Everything ran smoothly after she came on board. It was as if Doris could read my mind. She was truly my right hand. Nothing was out of place, and she met every deadline seemingly with ease. Doris was always pleasant. None of the rolled eyes and light sarcasm I sometimes experienced when I asked Maggie to do some projects. I grew to like being greeted by her warm smile in the mornings. Maybe I enjoyed it a little too much, now that I think back on it. Doris also had a mystery about her that drew me to know more. We talked a lot throughout the day, and shared jokes, but she didn’t reveal much about herself. I did notice there was not a ring on her left hand, but that didn’t mean anything. Some couples get engaged and never get a ring until after they’ve been married for awhile. When I married Anna, I couldn’t afford to give her a ring until after we had been married for a year. I wanted to ask Doris if there was any special man in her life, but it really wasn’t my business. Besides, I liked being intrigued by her sly smiles.

One night, a meeting ran way past dinnertime. Just as we left the office, the sky opened and rain fell in huge, heavy drops. "See you tomorrow, John," Doris said, as she opened her umbrella. "Your car is not too far away, is it?" I asked. She laughed in her own warm way. "My old car died right before I started working here. The bus stop is up at the corner." I kicked myself inside. Seems like I should have known that Doris didn’t have a car. "I’m parked across the street. I’ll give you a ride," I offered. "I’ll be fine," she grinned. "I don’t want to take you out of your way." "I’ll worry about you on the bus this time of night. I insist," I said. I thought, boy, that sounded odd coming out of me, but a second later we were running across the street. Doris gave me directions to her place, and then we began a lively conversation about the issues of the day. I noticed her perfume, a light, pleasant scent that was different than any of the perfumes Anna wore. Suddenly, I felt funny about comparing Doris to my wife, and turned my mind back on our conversation.Doris lived farther out than I thought.

I pulled up in front of a plain looking apartment building in a working class neighborhood. It reminded me of the one I grew up in. "This is it?" I said in amazement. "Yes, it is," Doris smiled. "I’m on the third floor." Doris opened her umbrella as she stepped out of the car. For a second she stood there, and I thought that she seemed extremely out of place in that environment. Doris struck me as too much of a lady to be there. "I really appreciate the ride, John. Have a good night!" She closed the door and bounded lightly up the steps to her front door. I waited until she was safely inside, and lingered a little more until I saw a light come on in a third floor window. On the way home, I couldn’t stop wondering about how Doris lived her life away from the job. Did she go to the movies? Or did she like to curl up with a good book with smooth jazz music playing on the radio? Nah. . .Doris was a little reserved on the job, but I figured that was just part of being professional while at work. She probably was a vivacious type when she wasn’t on the clock, with lots of friends to call on. I was spending way too much time thinking about my assistant.

I resolved to put her and the long workday out of my mind as I turned into the driveway of the comfortable suburban house I lived in with my wife and two kids. Anna would be waiting to tell me what harmless pranks the boys had pulled that day or the latest gossip from her girlfriends, who were all stay-at-home moms like her. I was confused to find all the lights off and no one at home, until I spotted a note near the telephone in the hallway. Guess I forgot that Anna had taken the boys to spend the night over at my mother’s house, and that she had gone out for dinner and drinks with her girlfriends. Anna had what my mother would call "hot feet". She took care of the house and boys fine, but my wife liked to be on the go a lot. Anna was the one who organized the weekly outings with the other wives in the neighborhood. She also had a hand in the shopping trips and lunch dates they kept up on a regular basis, as well. Sometimes, I wondered from where Anna received her energy. I nibbled on a bit of the casserole that Anna had made earlier, then decided to call it a night. I would have waited up for my wife, but I was tired out. Besides, her friend Carmen usually drove them around in her mini-van when they went out, so I wasn’t worried about Anna not having a ride home.

As I lay in bed, I hugged Anna’s pillow close to me, and gave thanks for the fact that I did have a family to come home to. Doris had never said anything about having parents or other family who lived nearby. She probably was all alone in the city. Suddenly, I wrapped the pillow around my head and turned over. What was wrong with me? All of my buddies envied me when I got engaged to Anna. She was considered one of the best looking girls around, and she still is. Doris probably wouldn’t be considered supermodel material, yet she had an inner glow that made her attractive, and a smart mind to boot. I’m sure I knew girls like that in high school, but they were the types that boys had as friends not as dates. Why couldn’t I get Doris out of my mind? The question was not answered as I drifted off to sleep.

I ran down to breakfast the next morning, with only enough time for a cup of coffee. Anna was on the phone, and she ended the call when I came into the room. She looked a little startled. "Something wrong, honey?" I asked. Anna smoothed her shoulder length blonde hair with her hand. "It’s Carmen. Trouble in paradise again," she sighed. I rolled my eyes. Carmen always blew up every little thing that happened between her and her husband into World War III. I was very glad that I didn’t have to live with a woman like that every day. Anna and I had our disagreements and problems like most couples, but I felt we communicated well. "Don’t tell me," I said, as I gulped down my coffee. "Okay, I won’t, but she wants me to come by later today to give me all of the gory details. I’m going to pick up the boys later, then stop by the store. Anything special you want for dinner?" Anna smiled. "Surprise me," I grinned. "I love everything you cook." I kissed her and hustled out of the door to my car.

Doris did not enter my mind again until I got up to my office to find her hard at work at her desk. She barely looked up at me to say hello, which was out of character for her. She seemed to be out of sorts all morning. Right before lunch, I called her into my office.

"I found out my ex is getting married this weekend," she wearily said as she sat down in the chair in front of my desk. So, there was a man, I thought in surprise. I didn’t want to appear like I was prying, so I announced, "Doris, you don’t have to tell me any more about it." She gave a dismissive wave and a small sigh. "My boyfriend and I decided to give each other some air several months ago. I knew it was unlikely we’d get back together, but I still hoped that things would work out somehow. I was wrong." A mutual friend of Doris and her ex-boyfriend had called to tell her the news about his upcoming wedding. I steeled myself in case she started bawling. Women seem to take break-ups harder than men do. My mom cried in her room at night for months when Dad left her. Dad claimed he was in love with the woman with whom he was sneaking around town. The same anger I felt towards Dad then, I felt towards Doris’ ex-boyfriend. "Come on," I said, getting up from my desk. "You need some cheering up." Doris started to protest, but I led her out to her desk to get her purse.

I took her to one of those retro-theme restaurants where everything was decorated as if it was forty years ago. Even the waiters and waitresses dressed as if they were extras in a 1965 B movie. We had a great time there. I kept making jokes to hear Doris laugh. The more Doris talked, the more I thought that the guy who let her go was a fool. I could see that she was an intelligent, charming woman. How come he didn’t see that?

After our lunch, I felt more drawn to Doris than before. I’d better get it together, I thought. Treading on dangerous ground. Doris went back to her desk, and I could hear her humming softly to herself as she worked. I checked my voice mail, and felt a pang of guilt. My wife had left a message around the time that I would have normally been back from lunch. Doris and I had stayed out a little longer than usual. "Honey, Mrs. Basili offered to watch Sean and Noah while I go soothe Carmen’s nerves. I promise I won’t let her keep me too long. I’ll pick up some steak for dinner. Love you!" I checked the other messages that pertained to business, then tried to concentrate on my work. It was hard.

Doris waved at me from the outer office at the end of the day. "I enjoyed lunch, John. That helped at lot." Her green eyes seemed brighter, as if they were looking through to my thoughts. She looked as if she wanted to say something further, but the words didn’t come out. The phone in my office rang. "My pleasure, Doris," I smiled as I picked up the receiver. Doris smiled and left the office.

"Dad, are you coming home right now?" I heard Sean, my ten-year-old say over the line. "Yeah, buddy. What’s up?" I answered. "Mrs. Basili said she has to leave in a half hour. She kept calling Mom, but she didn’t answer her cell phone." "Tell Mrs. Basili I’m leaving right now. I’ll call Mom on the way home, okay?" Anna was always forgetting to recharge her phone. She was probably at the grocery store. When I got inside my car, I dialed her number, but the voice mail kicked in almost immediately. Maybe Carmen was talking so much that she forgot to turn her phone on. I didn’t want to do it, but I called Carmen’s number. I hoped that her husband, Miguel, would answer. Carmen was not discreet about her family affairs, and I’d rather not hear her dirty laundry. I didn’t know how Anna put up with it.

I was relieved when Carmen’s husband picked up. "Anna hasn’t been here," he told me. "Didn’t she tell you about the disagreement they had?" "First time I’ve heard of it," I said. "I’m trying to stay out of the middle of it," Miguel said. "All I know is that Carmen said something to Anna and she got mad. They haven’t been talking to each other for a few days." "They’ve been friends for years. It’ll probably blow over soon." I was in confusion when I ended the conversation shortly afterwards. Hadn’t Carmen just called Anna yesterday? Anna did look a little upset. Maybe she attempted to make up, and it didn’t work out. Then why did she say she was going to her house?

When I got home, Mrs. Basili was irritated. "I don’t mind watching the boys," she told me, barely allowing me to get inside the house first, "but your wife told me she was only going to be gone for an hour. That was almost four hours ago! You know I check on my husband every day." Mrs. Basili’s husband was in a nearby nursing home, a victim of Alzheimer’s. "I’m sorry," I apologized. "I’ll speak to her when she gets home." Mrs. Basili hurried out, grumbling about not having much time before visiting hours were over at the nursing home. "I’m glad she’s gone," Sean said. "She never lets us play video games." Seven year old Noah nodded his head in agreement. "Dad, is Mom gonna be here soon?" he questioned me.

"I’m sure she will, son. Why don’t you guys play some games, and I’ll see what’s in the ‘fridge." As the boys jetted off to their room, my mind whirled with questions.

I made some burgers on the indoor grill we had brought that had that famous boxer’s name on it, and put chips on the side. I hoped Sean and Noah didn’t notice my concern. While they played video games, I called all of Anna’s girlfriends, and her parents, who still lived in the city. I even called my mom on the chance that my wife would be visiting her. I acted as if nothing was wrong so I wouldn’t alarm them, but it was bothering me. It wasn’t like my wife to just take off without telling anyone where she was. The boys finished eating, and I was halfway considering calling the police. Just then, Anna came in carrying two bags of groceries.

The boys ran up and hugged her. "Mrs. Basili was mad, Mom," Sean told her. "She was?" Anna said, looking at me with a quizzical expression. "Is your cell phone working? Mrs. Basili couldn’t get through and neither could I," I said as evenly as I could. Anna’s next expression told me that she knew I was upset. "I brought some ice cream," she told the boys. "I’ll dish it up in a little while. Let me talk to Daddy." The boys went back to their room. Anna carried the groceries to the kitchen, and I followed her. "Aw, you already ate without me," she said as she saw the dishes in the sink. Anna busied herself by putting the food away. "What about your phone?" I asked. "Of course, it’s working, but you know how sometimes calls don’t get through. The technology’s not perfect," she said. "Must have been a long line down at the grocery store. Mrs. Basili said you’ve been gone since early this afternoon." Anna gave me a hug and kissed my cheek. "Mrs. Basili exaggerates a lot," she continued. "I’ve been thinking that maybe the boys are too much for her to handle."

"So what’s going on with Carmen?" I asked. "She’s mad because Miguel wants to move his mother in with them. She’s never gotten along with his mom, and thinks her being in the house will be a disaster." "That’s a new perfume you have on," I said when she pulled away to go load the dishwasher. "It’s the same kind I always wear," she said. The scent was definitely not her usual brand. It had more of a musk smell.

I let the matter drop for the rest of the evening. After all, if she knew I was nursing a secret crush on Doris, she’d certainly have reason enough to be suspicious of me. However, it was obvious that Anna was lying, I didn’t know why.

I stayed holed up in my office the next morning, telling others that I was swamped with things I had to get down. I had no reason to believe anything was wrong between Anna and I before last night. I had always believed that we had a good marriage, and we were in a comfortable groove. I tried to push out of my mind the fact that Anna appeared to hide something last night. But was I any better? I didn’t tell Anna that I had taken Doris out to lunch. She might not have thought anything of it, but my motives for being around Doris were beyond a professional relationship. Later in the afternoon, there was a knock on the door, and Doris poked her head in. "Are you hungry?" she said. I momentarily forgot about my problems when I saw her smile. She slipped inside and closed the door behind her. In her hand was a paper sack from one of the nearby fast food places.

"You didn’t have to do that," I said, glad to have the distraction. "What do I owe you?" "Don’t worry about it," she said as she put the bag in front of me and sat down. "Everyone thinks you’ve gotten lost under all of the paper on your desk." She chuckled at this, and I grinned, too, not at the joke, but because I enjoyed the way she looked when she was amused about something. I could have sworn her eyes became brighter and her skin glowed then. "Guess I’m just having a rough day," I said. Doris leaned forward in her seat and looked me in my eyes. "Anything I can help with?" she asked.

I can’t say what possessed me to do what I did next. Maybe it was because of all of the times I thought about Doris and how fascinating she was. It could have been a reaction to Anna not being truthful with me, and not knowing why. I got up, came around my desk, and helped Doris to her feet. She looked in my eyes as if she knew what was coming. When I kissed her, she showed no signs of resistance. It seemed like hours before we finally broke apart, but it was only a few sweet moments. Immediately, I felt guilty, and I guess I expected Doris to show some remorse, too. Instead, she gave a knowing look and slipped back out of my office to her desk.

I hid in the office for the rest of the afternoon, afraid to face her again. I didn’t emerge until after I knew she was gone for the day. The kiss kept replaying in my mind the whole time I rode home. I admit it—I enjoyed it. But it was still wrong. Despite of whatever was going on with Anna, I was still her husband. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t go back to work and pretend like nothing had happened. It sickened me that perhaps I had turned into my dad—a womanizer with no consideration for anyone’s feelings.

I was never that much of a drinker, but I needed one at that moment. I pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant and bar that was several miles away from my house. Maybe I could formulate a plan to straighten out everything. I crept into a booth in the farthest, darkest section of the place. Luckily, the place was crowded with people, mostly couples who were too busy into each other to notice a lone man. A waitress quickly appeared to take my order, and left to fill it just as quickly. I put my head down on the table in a vain attempt to clear the confusion inside. A woman’s loud laughter cut across the other noise in the room. Something must have really been funny, because the laughter kept going and going. It sounded familiar. A few moments went by, and the waitress returned with my drink. The woman across the way was still laughing. The waitress, an older woman, wrinkled her nose. "I hope I don’t have to cut someone off because they’ve had too much," she groaned. "It’s too early in the evening to have thrown back that many, don’t you think?" I just nodded as she went back to the bar. That laughter really sounded familiar. I downed my drink in one gulp, and decided not to get another.

I really must have been out of it to think that getting drunk was going to help. I was driving and I needed a clear head. I got up to go up front to pay my bill, when the loud laughter rang out again. I noticed that several of the couples nearby were craning their necks to see who was the culprit. I guess it was disturbing their romantic moments, by the looks on their faces. I looked back at the booth where the noise came from, and saw a man slapping the table with his hand and grinning. His date had her back to me, but I could see that she was a blonde. I felt guilty all over again, because the woman reminded me of Anna. I quickly paid my bill and practically ran out of the place.

I fumbled for my keys for a few minutes after I reached my car. A moment later, I heard the same woman laughing again. At least one person’s having a good time today, I thought ruefully to myself. "I’m sorry I have to rush off, but we have to be careful," the woman said. I spotted Anna leaning against her car, while the man who had been in the booth with her was pressing close to her. "I can’t keep leaving you like this," the guy cooed. "Sooner or later, you’re gonna have to make a decision."

My feet felt like they were bolted to the asphalt. I couldn’t believe it. . .the woman I had known since junior year of high school was seductively hugging another man. "You feel so good," the guy continued. "Find some time to see me tomorrow." Anna kissed him and brushed back his dark hair. "I don’t know about tomorrow, baby. I’ll call you." They went on caressing each other, ignoring their surroundings. Finally, they let each other go. The guy swaggered off to his car, and Anna stood patiently until he drove off in the direction of the city. She then got into her car and rolled away.

I got in my car and sat gripping the wheel for several minutes. I wanted to tear after my wife, confront her about what I saw and demand that she take me to that guy’s house so I could pound him down. When I thought about it, I couldn’t confront Anna over her dirt without revealing mine. But I hadn’t slept with Doris yet. The way Anna and that guy were pressed to each other, I was sure they had crossed that threshold long ago.

I grabbed my cell phone. I couldn’t go home yet. Not now. I had Doris’ home number in my address book because sometimes I called her after hours about work projects. "I need to see you now," I said. Doris hesitated for a moment before she answered. "I know a coffeehouse nearby. Tell me what time you’ll be there, John."

She was waiting at a table when I arrived, a look of concern in her bright eyes. I nodded to her, and went up to the counter to buy a cup of coffee. I came over to sit down, and we sat in silence for several moments, except for the clack of the spoon Doris used to stir her tea. "John, I’m going to turn in my resignation," she said quietly.

"You don’t have to do that," I told her. She reached out and took hold of my left hand, running a finger over my wedding band. "We were both wrong," she answered. "Do you honestly think I could continue to come to work and we just forget about our attraction?" I was happy that she felt the same way about me, but sad because she was being truthful. I wasn’t going to give up easily. I told what I had learned about Anna that day. Doris listened patiently until I was through. "Some men say things just to get what they want out of a woman, but I believe you," she said earnestly. "She’s still your wife, however. I don’t want to be an easy excuse to end your marriage. Go back and see if there is anything worth saving." She got up from the table. "What if there isn’t? What then?" I asked, looking up at her.

Tears were pooling in her eyes. "You have to try, John," she said. "Don’t give up unless you are certain there is no chance. I’ll just have to accept what happens." Doris hurried out into the night before I could say anything else.

It was a long ride home that night. All the lights were off when I pulled up into the driveway, so I assumed that Anna and the boys were asleep. I hoped that Anna was. I still had no idea what to say to her. Now that Doris and I had acknowledged that there was something between us, I knew I would have to deal with that, too. I crept through the living room, when a lamp light on an end table next to the couch went on. After my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw Anna sitting on the couch in her bathrobe.

"Guess you know, right?" she said. Before I could respond, Anna went on. "I saw your car in the lot after Derek pulled off." It was as if all the air drained out of me like a punctured balloon. "So that’s his name," I said, sounding defeated. "I half expected you to come running over and punch him out," Anna laughed bitterly. "I should have known you’d show no reaction."

"You cheated on me and now you’re accusing me of being uncaring?" I bristled, trying to keep my voice down as to not to wake the boys. "Not uncaring, just unobservant," my wife snapped. "You go off out in the real world everyday, while my life consists of nothing of dealing with the boys and this house. You’re satisfied with our little world, but I feel like I’m in a cage." I slumped down in a nearby chair. "Haven’t I shown you affection, taken care of you, taken care of the boys?" I demanded. "There is no excitement anymore, nothing but sameness," she sighed in frustration.

"Why am I just now hearing about your unhappiness?" I asked. "You could have always talked to me." "What would have that changed?" she said, a hard edge to her voice. "I would still be bored, John. I expected my life to be different than this."

I didn’t know what to say to that. I honestly thought everything was fine. What signs did I miss? Anna slowly picked up the tissues strewn around on the coffee table and the couch. "I’m going to continue to see Derek," she said coldly. "I guess we’d better talk about separation." I stood up and walked towards the front door. "No, we’d better talk about divorce," I growled before leaving. Anna had chosen what was going to make her happy and it wasn’t me.

It was the middle of the night as I leaned on Doris’ bell. I heard a window open, and I looked up. Doris leaned out on the windowsill, wearing a pair of pajamas and her hair tied up in a scarf. She looked gorgeous to me. "John, are you crazy?" she yelled down to me. "Absolutely," I said, nodding my head. We stared at each other, a moment of understanding passing between us. Slowly, she broke into a wide smile. A few seconds later, she had run down the three flights of stairs, opened the front door and flung herself into my arms.

I wish I could say that all my troubles ended at that moment. The divorce was a dragged out process, not only because of custody issues involving the kids, but Anna felt she to exaggerate things to get a bigger alimony payment. I could have fought dirty, but I didn’t for the sake of the boys. Eventually we both settled on joint custody of Sean and Noah. To my surprise, Anna dropped her request for alimony and asked for more child support, which I was willing to pay. She moved in with Derek and went back to school to get a college degree. I guess he’s paying for her education. Doris did quit being my assistant. In light of all the other confusion that was going on, we didn’t need to add to it by fueling gossip at the office. There were some rumors flying around, but I hired another assistant quickly—a guy straight out of college who wanted to learn the construction business—and the rumors died off.

Doris and I took things slow. We wanted to make sure that we had a real relationship, not just an office fling. I learned more about her, and met her family. There is still an air of mystery about her, however. We’re planning our wedding now, and I hope to spend the rest of my life discovering the mysteries that make up the wonderful, loving person she is.

The Contenders

Steve forgot that the third season of "The Contender" premiered on ESPN this past Tuesday. "I heard that they got rid of six guys already," he said. That was true. One of the guys who was eliminated was 198 pounds, and all of the boxers during this season are supposed to be super middleweights, with a weight limit of 168 pounds. The guy lost seven pounds, but still had too much weight to cut to get down to size. It would have been dangerous for him to try to quickly get it all off.

"Buddy McGirt is one of the trainers on that show because his two cash cows -- Antonio Tarver and Arturo Gatti -- both lost fights recently," Steve laughed. It tripped me out that Gatti not only lost his last fight, but he retired in his corner. The guy who beat him? Alfonso Gomez, one of the boxers during season one of "The Contender."

There is a boxing show at Simons Park tonight, but Steve opted out of going to that. He's going to try to set up Larry with a match at the Eckhart Park boxing show, which is next week. JJ has a fight coming up next week as well, at a casino out in Aurora.

Bony sparred with Mike, and Bony had very good head movement. Steve kept telling Bony to hit Mike a little harder. "He can take it!" Steve said. Mike is probably the best conditioned person in the Loyola Park boxing gym. He works out all the time. Larry and JJ sparred, and I turned around to see Steve tending to a cut Larry had. It never fails. JJ always manages to cut somebody open, either in sparring or during regular matches.

Candace came in, but she was mostly on her own that night. I did give her some pointers about throwing hooks, but otherwise, she worked out on the bags.

I hurt one of the knuckles on my left hand while trying to throw an uppercut on the double end bag. My hand slipped and hit one of the metal pieces connected to the band that holds up the bag. My hands were wrapped, but I did not wear gloves. I usually don't while working on those lighter bags. It hurt badly for a minute, but it feels fine today.

New Dad

On Friday, Steve said he ran into Javonte, who hasn't been in the gym for weeks. Javonte had been steadily improving with his boxing skills. "He hasn't been around because he had a child," Steve explained. "What? How old is he?" I said. "Nineteen," came the reply.

Quiet, soft-spoken Javonte is a dad? Took me a little time to wrap my mind around that one. Bony stopped in around the time Steve dropped the news about Javonte. Both Bony and Steve talked about how they were over thirty when they decided to have children. Bony had his six-year old son with him. "Sometimes, when these guys have kids so young, they don't stick around long," Steve said. I certainly hope that is not the case with Javonte.

JJ was talking about making plans to celebrate his birthday, which passed. I'm sorry that I forgot the date. He turned 21, which is a milestone birthday.

Coach's Retirement

Steve announced that in another year, he'll have completed work on his Ph.D, and will be retiring from coaching. The news appeared to be somewhat of a shock to some of the guys, but Steve has been saying all long that he plans to be a college professor. I'll be sorry to see him go, but Steve has a career to pursue. I'm wondering who would replace him once that happens.

Candace came in, which was a surprise. She told Steve that she was trying to avoid being hit. "There's no way that you'll ever be able to do that," he smiled. "Sooner or later, you gonna get hit in this sport." Candace and I did some light sparring drills, and Steve also worked with her for awhile.

Everlast Outfitting

G came in with a list on Friday of all the equipment that Everlast wants to give to the gym. A major world boxing competition is coming to Chicago in October, a sort of precursor to the Olympics games that the city hopes to host. Everlast, the oldest boxing equipment company in the world, has offered to donate stuff to the Chicago Park District boxing gyms. We would get gloves, mitts, heavy bags and whole lot of other brand new items. It's just a matter of figuring out where to put it all when it comes.

Steve kept saying he wasn't feeling well, and he planned to go home early. Yet, he stayed until almost the end of the evening. Graubien brought his wife, four daughters, and a friend of his daughters to the gym. I saw the girls peering in, and thinking they were just kids hanging around, I asked if they were interested in the sport. They just smiled back. Later I learned that none of them speak English. Graubien was finally able to bring them all up from Mexico, and get their immigration papers in order. Steve let a couple of the girls put gloves on and do a mock sparring session.

Then two other kids walked in, a boy and a girl. When kids see other kids in the gym, they assume it's allright for them to be there, too. "No hitting the bags," I warned those two. I explained to them the procedure they'd have to follow to join the youth boxing program. "Why are those kids in the ring?" the boy asked. "Because their father is here to watch them," I told him.

Steve read the story I had written which was printed in True Love magazine, which just hit the newsstand last week. True Love is one of the many "confession story" magazines that you see on newsstands, full of stories with titles such as "I Faked My Death To Get Away His Torture" and "Left At The Altar By A Two-Timing Groom". He liked it. I made a copy of it for Les to read. Les told me he read -- and liked -- the story I wrote that was published in True Experience a couple of months ago. I have to make a copy of that story for Steve to read.

Little Men On The Bags

Willie showed up with his two grandsons again. Steve expressed his concerns about the kids being in the gym to me. If they belong to someone in the gym, there's the assumption that the adult is going to watch their kid. A little leeway is given sometimes in that situation. Those kids aren't run out of the place like the others who come in unsupervised. However, regardless if they are being supervised or not, the kids' aren't supposed to be in the gym on Wednesdays and Fridays. Mary, the fieldhouse supervisor, doesn't want kids in the gym during those times.

One of the boys kept beating the cobra bag, which was already loose. The kid beat it down nearly to the floor. Finally, I told him, "Look son, this is broken. It's not supposed to lean way over like that." He and his brother left it alone after that. While we were doing intervals later in the evening, Willie's grandsons decided they were going to join in. I kept worrying that they might accidently get hit by one of the adults' fists, or be KO'd by the heavy bags.

Larry, who hadn't been there in a long, long time, showed up at the gym last night. He had grown his hair out.

My left arm and shoulder was bothering me. That arm hasn't been completely right since that car accident I was in two summers ago. I've been checking out kettlebells online and thinking that maybe I should start lifting those. I need a little more strength in both arms, so it could help.

The Missing

I guess both Candace and Bridget have given up. Neither of them showed up on Friday night. G was not there, either, although Gilberto told me he had shown up the week the gym was closed. JJ was asked about Mort, and he stated that he hadn't seen him in awhile.

Steve wanted to sign up Terrell for a show fight in September, but Terrell's going to back in college by that time. He attends school in Mississippi. Terrell sparred with his friend Wally and popped him in the eye. Steve and I inspected the damage -- Wally's eye was a little red, but it wasn't blackened or closed. His nose was bleeding a little, but he took care of it.

Willie came in late with a couple of his grandchildren. He arrived a little too late for sparring, which was just as well. Personally, I didn't want to see a repeat of the slugfest that took place between him and Terrell the other day. JJ and Nate Sr. got their usual sparring in.

I learned that Diego made it all the way to the finals at the Ringside competition in Kansas, but lost his final fight. That still left him as a number one ranked contender, which is a good thing. I wish I could have competed in that. I'll always regret that I couldn't.

Gotta Work Together

Willie and Terrell were supposed to take it easy on each other during a sparring drill last night. Steve showed the both of them how light they were supposed to hit. Terrell was told to do jab-jab-cross, and Willie was to do cross-hook-cross. Willie kept pounding Terrell, then caught him up against the ropes and fired off several hard shots to his face. Terrell dropped his hands and took the hits. Steve made them break, and repeated that they were supposed to go easy.

Terrell went to his corner and whispered to Wally, "I'm gonna whip his ass." I don't think Steve heard it. The second round began, and Terrell didn't pull any punches on Willie. Willie returned heavy fire again. When the round ended, Steve made both of them take their gloves off. "You're not working with each other. You all are letting your emotions get too involved," he told them. Terrell said he was able to take the punches that Willie dished out, but Steve was not convinced.

At the end of the night, we did a cardio exercise. We paired up; one person held the mitts, while the other wore bag gloves. The idea was to throw many punches as fast as one could and remain in form at the same time. After three rounds, the pair would switch. Ben and I were paired up, and I was wore out afterwards. It was a good exercise. I hope we do that again.

I keep hearing bad news. Les' mother is dying, and he's in New York to be at her side. David, a nice guy who's a friend of Steve's, experienced the death of his mom recently. Steve's mother-in-law has been diagnosed with cancer. All of this reaffirms the saying, "When it rains, it pours."

Seeing Eye Boxer

I should have asked the opthalmologist about boxing in relation to my eyes this morning, but I skipped it. He probably would have told me, like my primary doctor keeps telling me, "boxing is not a good idea."

I'm still wearing my shades, because the dialation of my eyes makes them incredible sensitive to light. The sun is shining brightly today, and I labor under florescent lights at work. It'll be hours before they feel normal again.

Maybe it is just as well that the gym is closed tonight. Normally, I can see a punch coming without my glasses on, but with my eyes being dialated, I might miss one coming.

Closed Tonight

The gym is closed tonight, but I might go to self-defense seminar that's being held by the Chicago Police Department. I heard that the cops will give out free pepper spray, too. For those of you who read this blog and don't live here, there's been a rash of assaults against women in an area of town known as Lakeview. Lakeview is one of the city's many yuppie havens, located not far from downtown Chicago.

My interest in going is to hear what tips for self-protection will be given out. I'm guessing it'll be the usual -- don't walk alone at night, have someone pick you up from the public transportation stops if you'll be coming home late, make cab drivers wait until you get inside the house before you drive off, etc. I have no doubt that most of the women in attendance will display expressions on their face that indicate they haven't heard the tips before and/or have never considered them.

It's disturbing in this day and age that both men and women often get lulled into a false sense of security. Judging from the comments I saw in the local papers after the attacks, it appears that a lot of people think because they live in a supposedly safe area, such incidents would never happen there or to them. I realize that many also believe that if they are shelling out money for property, particularly some of those who have condos and town houses, that their mortgage payments should automatically guarantee that the neighborhood be free of criminals. People need to wake up and get real. There are no "safe" neighborhoods, towns, cities or suburbs. Crime is everywhere and it happens anywhere and anytime.

I grew up in neighborhoods where you learned to watch your back from day one. The front doors, back doors and the windows in the house were closed, locked and checked regularly. You learned not to always use alleyways and gangways as shortcuts. There were houses and apartment buildings that you hurried by when when you walked pass, if you couldn't avoid them at all. Everybody knew what streets and corners were particularly bad, and they stayed away. People learned who the bad guys and girls around the neighborhood were, and they were hip to all the con games and schemes. People also knew how to protect themselves.

I keep saying this: it galls me that women and girls in this country are still being told, "It's not ladylike to fight." When facing a criminal who wants to rape, rob, assault, etc., that kind of attitude will get females killed. I'm always running into women who tell me, "I've never been in a fight." That does not negate the fact that women and girls should be prepared to know how to defend themselves in case the need arises. Forget about nonsense like, "when people learn how to fight, that makes them aggressive." Better to learn how to be aggressive when appropriate than to end up in the emergency room or the morgue.

Friday Before Close

Last Friday, Mort came in, and it was good to see him. His face lit up when I told him that my niece Jalissa had asked about him. I had spent some time with her while I was on vacation last week.

When I first walked in, the only persons in the gym were Steve and Bony. "Where is everybody?" Steve asked. "I got in eight rounds on the heavy bags before anyone came in!" Bony and I were able to get some pad work in before others came trickling in. Gabe came in, and it looked like he had been working out. His abs and chest were cut nicely.

Steve has to go out of town this week, and I opted not to come in, so the gym will be closed this Wednesday and Friday. If there was a major tournament coming up, I could see coming in. However, it's summer and people have been slacking off a little in regards to attendance. I wasn't surprised when Bridget didn't show up again, but I was surprised when Candace didn't show.

In regards to Bridget, she's just following a pattern that those who have children usually do: they drop out early on. This is especially true when they are always bringing their children with them when they come to the gym. I remember Brendon, who had a little girl. He disappeared before the session ended. Another guy had a cute little boy named Benny, who was also attending during the same time Brendon was. He stopped going, too. Then there was the guy who was not only showing up with his kids, but with his wife as well. He explained that his wife and kids wanted to see what the boxing program was all about. After a couple of weeks, they were satisfied with what they saw, I guess, and they stayed home. The guy stuck around another couple of weeks after that, and he dropped out.

Willie and JJ

September 26 -- that's when the fall session of boxing at Loyola Park begins. Our boxing show takes place a few days after that, I believe.

No Bridget on Friday. I don't know what happened. Candace and I spent a good amount of time reviewing what I had shown her before, then we went over how to block punches. I didn't get that much of a workout because I gave Candace extra time. If Bridget had come in, I would have limited the lesson to about an half an hour. I want to give people as much attention as I can when I'm giving lessons, but I have to get my box on, too.

The usual round robin of sparring took place this past Friday, with Willie and JJ taking it to each other during their time on the canvas. Nate Sr. also went a couple of rounds with JJ. Nate declared, "If I come in here and don't get a piece of JJ, I feel left out!" Steve and I were trying to think of other guys that Willie could spar with. "Maybe Terrell?" I said, but Steve shook his head. "Terrell goes a little wild," he commented. "Wally, then," I suggested, and Steve agreed.

Candace, Bridget and a Blogger

Yesterday was Steve's birthday. He's 34 years old. "I'm not going to do anything. I'll probably just go home and have a beer," he told me. I noticed he was able to get in a fair amount of working out on the bags last night, which was a good thing. He spends so much time with all of us that he often doesn't get to exercise himself.

About ten minutes before Steve came in, Ceedub, whom I met through the Broken Heart of Rogers Park blog (http://morsehellhole.blogspot.com) stopped in to check out the gym. It was very nice to put a face to someone whom I had talked to via the Internet. He liked the setup of the gym, and he plans to join when the fall session starts in late August/early September. I need to find out the exact date.

Candace and I went over all of the punches and some footwork. Later, she was working on the pads with Willie. Normally, the newcomers don't get on the pads for awhile, but she looked impressive. She's had some kickboxing experience. Willie held pads for a lot of us last night, including myself and Ben. I heard him tell Ben, "Man, you punch the old school way!"

JJ was not in, and it seemed to have been the result of miscommunication between him and Steve. Last night was the monthly boxing show at the Sabre Room, but Steve opted not to go. He had talked about what he might do on his birthday, and JJ might have assumed that Steve was going to take off and close the gym up that night. JJ went out to Elgin to work with his conditioning trainer.

Bridget came in with her daughter Penny, which was a bit of a surprise. She explained that some things had come up, which was why she hadn't been in. I told her we could pick up where we left off the last time, and she promised to come in on Friday. Actually, that works out, because I can review the basics with her and Candace at the same time. After the review is over, we'll start on learning how to block and slip punches. That's something I need to work on myself, so it'll be a review for me, too.

Garfield No Go

Steve, JJ and I were late getting out to the Garfield Park fieldhouse on the west side. Barry had two smaller kids there, whom I had never seen before, and they had matches lined up. Unfortunately, there was nothing available for either JJ or Little Jermaine. We hung around for a little bit, talked to Catchings, who was there taking pictures, then rode back up to Loyola Park for a quick workout.

I thought I wouldn't get much done that night, but it turned out extremely well for the 30 to 40 minutes we were in the gym. My gym bag was at home, but fortunately, there were a couple of wraps inside my locker, and I could use the bag gloves in the equipment cabinet. I also keep a pair of tennis shoes in my locker, too, as my old boxing shoes are just about worn out. Eventually, I'll get around to buying a new pair when I catch some on sale. There's not a great need for me to buy a whole lot of equipment since I can't compete anymore, but I still need some things to do the workout.

Yet Another New Face

Steve introduced me to a woman named Candace who will begin coming to the gym next week. He explained to her that the gym would be closed tonight because JJ is scheduled to fight at Garfield Park. She seemed very pleasant, and had a lot of questions about what goes on in the gym. She was concerned that maybe Steve wouldn't always have time to work with her. Before he left us to talk, he explained he had to get back to working with some of the guys. I told her not to worry, and that I would help her out.

It seems the gym has been very busy this summer, which is unusual. The regulars still come around during the season, but usually, not many new people sign up. There have been a lot of people coming by the gym to inquire about joining, as well. I even had a person named ceedub, who posts regularly to another blog I visit, make plans to join when the fall sessions rolls around in late August/early September.

Dazed and Stunned

I saw something that I thought I would never see in the gym this past Friday. Tall Jermaine -- who's about 6 foot 5 and 265 pounds -- was knocked to one knee by Terrell. They were sparring, and Terrell caught him with what looked like a left hook.

Later, Terrell was dazed when Wally caught him in the face with a punch. Both Terrell and Jermaine were pretty much finished for the night after those incidents. At one point, Jermaine said, "I'm still dazed."

Willie sparred with Nate Sr., and Willie wasn't pulling his punches at all, and he had energy for days. Both Steve and I were worried that Nate Sr. might end up getting hurt. However, Nate Sr. likes to spar, and knows how to handle himself in the ring. He used to be a professional boxer.

Two of the three newbies who showed up on Wednesday were missing on Friday. I kind of figured that Ahmed would disappear quickly, but I was a little disappointed that Bridget didn't come in. She showed real promise the other day.

New Appearances

Three more new people showed up last night. Steve and I were baffled why they showed up just then, considering the summer session began three weeks ago. He asked me to go over the initial lessons with them, while he went forward with the other new people.

Bridget showed up with her daughter Penny, a cute 7-year-old. Bridget has taken Tae Kwon Do, so she was not unfamilar with fighting techniques. Ahmed is long and tall, and the third person -- a husky guy whose name I can't remember -- is a MMA fighter. The third person basically just wanted to work out, so the lesson was geared towards Bridget and Ahmed. We went over how to stand, the left jab and the right cross. Bridget showed good form while Ahmed. . . well, he didn't seem to be very coordinated. Instead of throwing the jab straight out, he flung it in the air, and he couldn't seem to get the concept of turning his body and putting his weight into the right cross. Time will tell how well he'll progress.

The gym was busy last night, between the other new people continuing their lessons, and a few of the regulars sparring and/or doing drills. Willie stopped in to get in a quick workout, and I held the pads for him. I have to be very mindful of how I'm holding them, because he hits very hard. However, judging how poorly things have been going at my job lately, it might be a blessing to be laid up because of punch that missed its mark.

Dealing with constant annoyances, irritations and frustrations on my job always make me wish I had a punching bag at home. It would warm my heart to tape either a picture or the name of the person(s) who pissed me off on a heavy bag then beat the bag down. There have been too many of those over the past two weeks. For example, last week, Les had me take the pictures of entertainers down off my wall, because he felt they did not contribute to a professional office. It was more like him worrying about what someone else was going to think -- probably about the new COO who keeps an office on our floor, who has been in and out of my office with nary a comment as to what was up on the walls -- as usual. Irked the hell out of me. For five years, the pictures posed no problem, now all of a sudden, they do? My office suddenly looked like a bare tomb. After a couple of days, I couldn't take the lack of color anymore, so I had some family photos copied and blown up, and now they are up on the office walls.

G announced that his wife had a baby girl the other day. I didn't know he was married and already had a 2-year-old daughter. I find out something new every day.

Fights On Weed Street

Javonta didn't get a fight, which was really a bummer, considering that Joe's Bar was overrun with guys looking to get matched up in the ring. Steve grumbled that many of the fight nights held in bars are disorganized. "They are looking for heavyweights and open fighters," he commented.

Barry was able to get a fight for Montrell, who beat his opponent in a close match. During that fight, I was using Barry's camcorder to tape the action. Montrell and his opponent slammed against the ropes, and a spray of sweat covered me, the judges nearby, and the people sitting in the front row. I had always heard of people ringside being sprayed with either sweat or blood. Now I have that experience.

I had been inside Joe's before, but never during a boxing show. The last time I was there, I was a member of a singles group I joined several months after my younger sister passed away. The singles group had events practically every day. Around Christmas, I attended an event where the old TV Christmas specials, like "A Charlie Brown Christmas" were shown on a big screen. It was nice and cozy up in the little balcony area sectioned off for the event. By the following spring, however, I had paid off my membership for that year, and I left the group. Too many events centered around hanging out in bars, which, like drinking, is something I don't do on a regular basis. Plus, in addition to the monthly membership fee, on top of a joiners fee, I had to shell out extra to participate in the events.

Bovon (I have mistakenly referred to him as Bovino in past posts) was there. Yale asked another guy to help hold Bovon down so he could shave his goatee off. I know that guys can't compete wearing facial hair, but I hoped Yale was kidding about tackling the guy. Later, Bovon was seen clean-shaven.

Sparring In A Sweatbox

Terrell, JJ, Javonta, Wally, Jermaine and Bony (one of the new people) sparred this past Friday. Once again, the windows were open and the fan was running, but the humidity remained high. I ran into Ben, a guy who plays basketball at the fieldhouse over the weekend. "I knew several guys would be sparring that night, but it was too hot back there for me to come in," he told me.

The real surprise was Bony, who mixed it up with Javonta. He never took his eyes off of him, and didn't make many of the mistakes that first time sparrers usually do. Steve is very impressed with him. "He's 42 years old. If only I had met him when he was 15. He'd be a champion by now," he said. Bony has natural talent, and has quickly picked up the techniques that Steve has taught so far.

Nikki came in and gave me some info on fasting and raw food dieting. I noticed that of all the new women who started, she was the only one who returned. The other three disappeared after the first class meeting. I don't expect to see them again, but you never know.

Holiday In The Gym

No one was sure if the gym was going to be open this upcoming Wednesday, which happens to be the Fourth of July. Steve told all to just assume it wasn't going to be open.

JJ sparred with Terrell and Javonte sparred with Tommy. Some of the newcomers stuck around to watch. In fact, most of the regulars stopped to watch, too. It was a little funny; we were like kids hanging over a fence watching something going on in the neighbor's backyard. This will be the real test for the newcomers. Usually, after they see a sparring session, a lot of them disappear, never to be seen at the gym door again.

Nikki didn't come in, and I was a little disappointed because I wanted to see what information she was going to bring in regarding the raw food diet.

Humidity

Water ran down my face as if someone had thrown a bucket of it on me last night. It was extremely humid in the gym. The windows being open and the fan being on didn't do much. Plus, there were a lot of people in the gym.

One of the new people, Nikki, was telling me that her sibings and her mom are diabetic. She has been trying a raw foods diet, and she told me she would bring some info in for me to look at on Friday. I don't like most veggies and fruits; I have to force myself to eat them. I am interested in the raw food diet, since I've heard a few things about it.

Turns out that one of Nikki's sisters went to school with Mort. Nikki said that her sister had a crush on Mort when they were small children, and was always talking about him. Small world. Mort gave Nikki his number and asked that her sister call him. He hadn't seen her since high school.

Steve will have a sociology article of his published in an online journal, which is very cool. It will look good on his resume as he searches for teaching positions.

Another guy named Jermaine, who usually goes to Barry's boxing class was in the gym last night. Steve introduced him to me. "She volunteers and is a great help around here," Steve told him. "Yeah, she works us ten times as hard when Steve is not here!" Tommy joked. "I have a beret and a whip," I laughed, imitating myself using an imaginary one to keep the boxers in line.

Out At The Golf Course

The gym was closed this past Friday, as JJ had a match at a private show out at a country club in Park Ridge. JJ said his first fight took place there. I couldn't remember being at that club before. All of them tend to look the same: the parking lot, the front entrance, the rooms that perpetrate the smell of old money, even though a lot of younger guys are members these days.

All of the boxers were ushered into a room where few chairs were available. Mike and Erin were in attendance, and they sat on the floor most of the time. The doctor who checked the guys beforehand wasn't even given a table to put his things on.

I only watched three of the seven fights that took place, including JJ's since I was working his corner. Too much cigar smoke in the room. I watched one guy take puff after puff, blowing it out in the air, like a kid who was able to do something he had been forbidden to do for a little while. One guy came up to JJ after he was suited up and said, "You gonna win your fight? You gonna do it for me, baby? I'm gonna put a 'G' on you!"

JJ won, but the fight was a squeaker. Steve kept telling JJ not to hesitate. We don't know why JJ always waits for the other guy to do something before he reacts. JJ had his mouthpiece knocked out during the second round, and Steve and I rushed to get it back and rinse it off so the round could continue. JJ didn't do so well in that round, but roared back during the middle of the third round. The guy who had bet money on him was pleased. "Got a 'G' in my pocket thanks to you!" he told JJ afterwards.

What irritated me the most during JJ's match were the ring card girls. Steve and I could barely get the stool and the bucket in between rounds because those chicks were entering and exiting via our corner. Ring card girls are extremely unnecessary.

The Same Out Of The New

A small crowd of new people showed up for the beginning of the summer session last night. I speculated that Martin, a friend of Graubien's, would probably continue. I didn't hold out much hope for the rest. I know that sounds a bit down, but people always disappear after the first two weeks.

Erin's uncle John is featured in a book about Chicago's amateur boxing scene. Unfortunately, the book doesn't go too far into the 2000s or else JJ's picutre would have been included, since he won the Golden Gloves in 2006. Pictures of Yale and Gary when they were young champions were also in the book. I believe I'll pick the book up the next time I go to the bookstore.

Fighting Despite Limits

I told Steve on Friday about an article I saw on the BBC web site: Joanne Larkin is threatening to go to the European Court of Human Rights to force boxing authorities to let her 15-year-old son box. Her son is diabetic, and he is prohibited from competing. I know how the kid feels. Steve asked my thoughts on diabetics in boxing. I can see how being diabetic would be a problem in professional boxing. However, in amateur boxing, headgear is present, and there are checks and balances to make sure competitors are safe. The mom of the teenager asked, "Why isn't it discrimination? Diabetics are allowed to enter into any other type of sport and competition. . .why not boxing?" Why, indeed.

I was diagnosed with high blood pressure back in 2003, but I wasn't stopped from competing. My hypertension has always been controlled with meds, and my doctor would write notes comfirming that. I also have a minor heart problem. One of the valves has a small hole in it. The only thing I have to remember about that is taking antibiotics before any kind of medical procedure is done, like having a dentist work on my teeth, for example. There are many days when I grumble, "I was healthy until I turned 45 years of age," but I thank God that I'm not as bad off as I could be. I know that doctors recommend every other exercise to diabetics except boxing, but I see no reason why I should stop participating in the workouts. As long as I can move, I'm fine.

Combinations

Steve and I worked on the punch mitts last night. He had me doing a combination -- left, right, left, left, right uppercut, left hook, catch a hook, left hook, right, left hook, duck, left hook, right, left hook -- that seemed to impress the guys when I did it correctly. "Is there something you're not telling us?" Mort grinned after observing me. Later, Mort got on the mitts with Steve and practiced the same combination.

Actually, he doesn't call out, "left, right, hook" etc., but the number of the punches ("1,2,3") instead. I'll get caught up thinking about the sequence instead of executing the punches, as Steve often points out. The trick is to just let my hands go.

Among the missing last night was JJ and Muhammad. JJ has a retail job now, and unfortunately, work hours for employees in that industry change day-to-day, week-to-week. Muhammad is so hyped up about learning how to box, but his attendance has been sporadic. I understand that he's looking for a job, so maybe that's why he hasn't been in. I've been thinking about Rias a lot, too. I wonder where he's been hiding.

Tommy just happened to ask, "Did any of you see an iPod?" I remember about the one Barry found last week. I pulled it out and showed it to Tommy, who was extremely relieved. The iPod was his. "I was about to spend $150.00 on a new one!" he said. "You were saved some money!" I replied.

Steve's Back

Steve was back in the gym this past Friday. I didn't get a chance to ask him how Italy was. I'll ask him on Wednesday. Gave him a report about what happened in the gym while he was gone.

Finally figured out to adjust the Cobra bag! Took me long enough. Guess I wasn't turning the knob to lift the bag up and down correctly.

JJ was ticked because a cop gave him a $20 ticket for riding his bike on the sidewalk. Chicago rules of the road for bicycles states that no one over age 12 should ride on the sidewalks. In the neighborhood where the gym is located, the cops don't want anyone riding on the sidewalks, regardless of age. The fieldhouse sits off of a main street that has narrow sidewalks. Usually, they paint signs on the concrete at each corner saying "No bikes on the sidewalk", but they haven't gotten around to it yet. Unfortunately, JJ was caught. He doesn't like to spend money, and he was really outdone by receiving the ticket.

Things Left Behind and A New Face

Just as I was starting to walk out the door to go to the gym, Barry called. Someone left an iPod behind in the gym, and he let me know where he hid it, just in case someone asked for it. I asked the guys when I arrived at the gym, and it didn't belong to any of them. Must have been one of the kids who was careless. Most of the stuff that is left behind are the things the kids forget to take with them when they leave. If I was their mother, I'd go off on them for wasting my money like that. Most likely if they leave something behind that's valuable, they'll never see it again.

A guy came in saying that he knew Graubien. Steve didn't come in the gym last night, and the guy hadn't signed up previously, so I asked him to wait until the coach returned. He hung around for the whole night, watching people. When he got on the double end bag, I had to tell him a) he shouldn't hit the bag without handwraps and b) he should wait until he's actually signed up for the gym. "I'm just trying to get a little bit of a workout in. I really don't know what I'm doing," he told me. He claimed he had come in the gym a long time ago, but I didn't remember him.

Two In The Room

G and I were the only two in the gym for about an hour this past Friday. "The weather's too nice", G said, as an explaination as to why no one else showed up. Around 8:00 PM, Jermaine came in, but it was very quiet in the gym. I closed up a little after 8:30 PM.

It is not unusual that people become MIA when Steve is absent, but that was the lowest attendance I've ever seen during the times he's been out. I'm still thankful that no stray kids, boisterous teens or odd adults came in during the past week. It makes running the gym easier when those distractions aren't in play.

No Incident Wednesday

I was hoping there wouldn't be any kids/teens roaming into the gym, being underfoot, or the occassional odd adult whose agenda about boxing is murky hanging about last night. I was pleased that the night started and ended without anything out-of-pocket happening.

Tried as I might, I couldn't re-adjust the Cobra bag down to my height. I'd been fooling with it since last Friday. I think Muhammad adjusted it so Jermaine can use it -- Jermaine is very tall -- but I can't get it back to any other height. I skipped using it as part of my workout last night.

Normally, I would use the uppercut at the back of the gym, and use the mat back there for crunches and push ups. However, I'd rather not be back there if I'm the one watching the gym, and Steve is out. Have to keep an eye on who is coming in and out. I told G last night that I was going to suggest that he not leave his gym bag near the door. He was told about when Sadiq's backpack was stolen, and when some kids tried to roll away with Steve's bike when he left it propped up by the rail just outside the door. I often offer my locker as a place where others can place their belongings.

We did intervals on the heavy bags again -- rather, everyone else did and I just called out the rounds. Did four rounds this time. Maybe on Friday, I'll suggest that all do five rounds.

Friday Intervals

This past Friday in the gym was mostly uneventful. Only Rachel, Danny, Jermaine, G, Sadiq and Muhammad were there. It was a nice night, weather-wise, so I wasn't surprised at the low turnout. I braced myself for lookey-loos rolling into the gym, but that didn't happen.

I was the first one in, so I put the radio on the oldies station. Later, after G and Muhammad came in, I went to put fresh water in the water bottles. When I came back, both guys said, "We've got to talk to you about your choice of music!" We all laughed about that. I'm not crazy about a majority of the hip-hop/rap/contemporary R&B that most of the others like to hear. Most of it is crap to me, but I don't care if the station is changed to that music. The only time I was irked when the music was changed was when John used to come to the gym. This was back when I used to bring in a lot of my old school tapes and CDs. He decided he didn't want to hear The Eagles' song, "Life In The Fast Lane", and took the tape off, without asking me if it was okay to do so. "The Eagles were lame when I was back in high school," he declared. I decided not to make a big deal of it, but it was irritating just the same.

We did intervals near the end of the evening for three rounds. I called the rounds, but did not participate. The soreness I experienced from when Steve worked us on Wednesday was hitting hard. I took Tylenol before I left the house, but that didn't do much of jack.

A Workout and A Half

We did drills for everyone last night -- a lot of pad work, exercises with the medicine ball, and interval training on the heavy bags. I was dripping sweat afterwards. It was an extremely good workout. Too bad we can't do group training every time. Since boxing is not a team sport, trainers have to work with individuals on specific techniques in order to make fighters better.

Steve will be out of the country for a couple of weeks, so the usual rule of no sparring while he's gone applies. I asked him about Nate Sr., who has been dropping in recently most Fridays to get some work in with JJ. "Uh, oh. I'm glad you said something, because I forgot about that," Steve said. He told me he would call Nate to tell him he'd prefer that he'd not spar with JJ or anyone else until he returns. Nate Sr. and JJ never go completely all out when they spar, but it's best not to take the chance on something going wrong.

The coach also asked that I not allow anyone to sign up for the class while he's out. Whenever Steve is gone, someone always comes in, wanting to join the gym. Most times, it's someone who is all hyped up about the idea of boxing, but not about the actual work that goes into it. They usually don't come back again after asking for information.

Lan came in, and brought in a cobra reflex bag. One of the anchor bags needs to be filled with sand or rocks to steady it more, but it's all good. I like working on the cobra bag whenever I go to JABB Gym, so I thought it was cool that she donated it.

Barry and Montrell stopped by. Barry had tried to get Montrell a fight somewhere downtown, but it didn't work out. Indeed, when Steve returns from vacation, there'll be a lot more boxing shows going on for our fighters to participate in.

Old Home Week Again

JJ pointed out that the boxers greet each other as if we hadn't seen each other for years, even though we saw each other a couple of days before. I don't know why that is, but I guess it's just the comaraderie everyone has. Sadiq stopped in on Friday, and he was treated like a superstar. He's still working nights, and trying to save money, but he's planning to return to the gym.

Craig had headgear with had a face guard on it. I've seen those advertised in Ringside and Title's catalogs, and wondered how good they were. Craig said the guard didn't restrict his vision at all while he was doing some sparring drills with Steve. "The bars sort of gray out, and you don't notice them," he explained. Such headgear may be worth investing in down the line.

Steve is going out of town after this upcoming Wednesday. I told him that I would open the gym, but that he should check with Mary. The last time Steve was out for several days, Mary decided against the gym being open. Too many folks were roaming in and getting free workouts was the reason. Mary did say it was okay for the gym to be open, but if she hadn't it wouldn't have bothered me. The main problem I have whenever Steve is gone is stray kids and teens thinking the gym is either a playground or hangout spot or both.

I must be getting soft, because I don't snap as much at the tresspassing little kids like I used to do. I've found that the best tactic is to show them around and talk to them a little about boxing. That does cut down on some of the more offensive behavior. Because of their short attention spans, the little kids will eventually find something else to do other than hang in the gym, anyway. Unfortunately, that doesn't always work with the teens who want to give people word-for-word when given orders. With the teens at the fieldhouse, I always have to act hard to get them to back off and back out.

I was laughing with JJ, Jermaine and Danny about something -- I think JJ was imitating the other boxers again -- when a loud scream was heard in the hallway. Several of us ran out to see what happened. There is a stairway outside of the gym that leads to the second floor. A couple of guys appeared in that doorway, looking a bit annoyed, and Mary questioned them. They said some kids were running up and down the hall, disturbing their meeting. I overheard Mary telling Steve that the back emergency door at the bottom of that stairwell needs to be locked at all times. "I try to keep an eye on it," Steve told her. During warm weather, too many of the kids attempt to use that door as an exit or entry point. I wish there was an alarm on it.

Nate Sr. was there, and he loves to get sparring in with JJ. I thought JJ was a little rough on Nate, however. He caught the older man in a corner at one point, and let loose a flurry of punches. I had just taken a refresher CPR/first aid course at work the day before. I thought, "JJ, please don't hurt Nate so badly that I have to use what I learned." Nate always has praise for JJ afterwards. "He really got me good there," Nate commented.

Makin' Fun

JJ has a talent for imitating how others train in the gym. I'm almost afraid to ask him what I look like in the gym! He's too funny, especially when he imitates Jermaine, which he did in front of him last night. JJ makes it look like that Jermaine is so fast with his punches that no one can see them. He also does a good imitation of Keith throwing punches. Jermaine had the best impression of Keith, however -- he just sat down in a chair and rested. We all fell out laughing at that one.

Both Erin and Rachel came in; they hadn't been there for awhile. I was really glad to see Erin. I thought she might have given up after she lost her first fight at the Sabre Room last month. Rachel explained that she would have been in last week, but she had a lot of trouble with her car. It had even been towed at one point, and it's not cheap to recover a car when that happens.
Steve worked with Muhammad on the pads. I didn't hear what Muhammad said before they began, but Steve laid down the law. "You've got to put in the workout, and I can get you fights. But I don't want to go through what I went through with Keith," he told him. It appears that Keith has quit boxing, according to a conversation he had with Steve a couple of weeks ago.

Javonta was there last night as well, and I watched him as he worked on one of the heavy bags. He looked good, calculating his punches, slipping, bobbing and weaving. I hope there are some good matches coming up for him this summer.

I had to watch it while I practiced bobbing and weaving, as well as when I was doing squats. My knees were talking to me, and they weren't giving me good news. Sometimes I notice my arthritis in the gym, and sometimes it doesn't bother me. I managed to make it through the squats, but one round of bobbing and weaving was enough.

Boxing and Motherhood

I was thinking that if I had kids, it might be difficult for me to do a boxing workout. It would difficult for me to do a lot of things. My mother always grumbled to my siblings and I that children were in her way. According to her, we prevented her from having the glorious life she felt she was entitled to have.

Several years ago, she wondered aloud why I would take up boxing. Now I realize that was just another way of her expressing her jealousy of both my younger sister and I. It all fits -- the comments about why we didn't travel more often, why we didn't we own property, why we didn't have cars (although at various times while she was still speaking to both of us, my sister and I did own vehicles), etc. Add that to the fact that I have no children and Cindy gave her two girls up for adoption, and you have why the green in Ma's eyes glowed like the Emerald City in the Wizard of Oz.

Her concern about me boxing probably also figured into why she also didn't want to see me after she had a last falling out with a terminally ill Cindy in late 2001. Dad joked about, "You might be able to knock my teeth out," after he learned I boxed. Ma might have thought I might have been angry enough to knock hers out after she turned her back on Cindy and I for the second time in our lives. She didn't want to take the chance that I might have, so I was banned from coming to her apartment.

I guess I was hoping for too much. . .boxing is a positive thing, and I thought maybe Ma would have been proud of me participating in it. But then she never appreciated anything that I, Cindy, or my brother Ken that was remotely positive. It was always easier for her to focus on the negatives, whether real or imagined.

Chico's Death and Medical IDs

Earlier in the day, I had peered at a newspaper over the shoulder of a guy while riding on the train. He was reading the sports section which had an article with a heading that gave the impression that Diego "Chico" Corrales had retired from boxing. I couldn't see the content of the article. When I arrived at the gym, JJ told me that Corrales had died in a motorcycle accident.

Corrales' fight with Jose Luis Castelijo was the bout of the year in 2005. It was brutal, bloody, and exciting as hell. Corrales looked like he was down for the count in the last round, but came up off the canvas and beat Castelijo down as if the man had insulted his mama. I liked Chico. He always came to the ring ready. He was a little cocky, not annoying cocky like Floyd Mayweather or Antonio "The Magic Man" Tarver can be, however. He didn't make it to 30 years of age. It's a shame.

Mort ran the conditioning session at the end of the night, consisting of push ups and crunches. A little easier for the younger guys to do, but not for me. I did them anyway, because I need to do them. My knees were bothering me, which was a bit annoying since they hadn't done so in several days. I couldn't do squats easily nor practice bobbing and weaving for long.

I showed Steve my medical ID bracelet, and he pointed out something I should have caught. My phone number is on the bracelet instead of my doctor's or another emergency phone number. "It won't do me any good, in case you collapse, to call your house and get your voice mail. 'Pick up your phone! You've collapsed! When you get this message, go to the hospital!' " he said. Both of us had a good laugh off of that one, but it pointed out the seriousness of the situation. I'll have to buy either a new bracelet or necklace with the right info.

The Laughing Boxer

Floyd Mayweather was having a lot of fun at Oscar DeLa Hoya's expense during their fight this past Saturday. I think DeLa Hoya let his temper get the best of him sometimes, judging by how some of his punches looked. Like Tracy Sr. was telling his son Tracy Jr. when they were at the gym a few weeks ago, "Ain't nothin' on those punches but your arm." Then Mayweather announces that he is retiring. JJ commented, "That's what they all say. He'll be back." He's probably right. Very few boxers stay permanently retired, except for Rocky Marchiano. The rest show up a few months or even weeks later for one to several more go arounds. The sad things is, some of them get forced out of the game after the last hurrah.

Steve showed me a new exercise on Friday night. It involved holding the medicine ball between one's forearms, then taking long side steps, above 5 to 10 in each direction, with knees bent, and up on the toes. Hard, but a good exercise. I did something similar while in physical therapy back in January. Instead of the medicine ball, I had a heavy band around my ankles.

I Didn't Think Of That

Both Mort and JJ announced that they found jobs -- Mort will be at a downtown currency exchange, and JJ has a job at Home Depot. The goal is for the both of them to move out of their parents' homes and get their own places. I was glad to hear about their new employment.

Steve asked me if there is anything he should know in case I get sick in the gym. It should have occurred to me to give him some guidelines when I first got the news that I have diabetes. Earlier yesterday, I brought some glucose tablets from Walgreens. They are for whenever my blood sugar drops low. I highly doubt that'll happen. Never heard of my dad or my two grandmothers having that problem. However, it does pay to be safe rather than sorry. I'll remember to carry them with me whenever I go to the gym.

I also told Steve that there was a possibility if I got cut open during a sparring match, it might take a long time for me to heal. I've always had a problem with slow healing cuts and wounds, long before diabetes hit me. I don't spar very often, so that shouldn't be a great problem.

Everybody seems to be hyped about the Mayweather-De LaHoya match this Saturday. Intially, Mike was going to order the fight and have people at his house, but he changed his mind. Mike is going to watch the fight with friends at a bar instead. "Eh, I don't want to go to a bar, because then you can't pay attention to the fight because of people around you yelling and asking stupid questions, " Steve said. If Barry or Gary don't get the pay-per-view, then Steve will get it. I'm looking forward to it. The Golden Boy and Pretty Boy Floyd have been talking much $100 trash for weeks. It'll be interesting to see how it plays out in the ring.

A Different Perspective On It

I ended the work day upset this past Friday, thinking about how diabetes has cost me hope of ever having an amateur match. Initially, I didn't want to go to the gym that night, and I waivered back and forthwards with that thought. Finally, I pulled myself together and went at the last minute, because, after all, I need the workout. It was tough going for the first half-hour or so. My heart was not in it.

Near the end of the evening, Muhammad did a sparring drill with Steve. It wasn't long before Muhammad began to complain about being tired. Steve directed him to continue, but Muhammad kept leaning on the ropes, reclining in the corners, and not keeping his hands up. Muhammad told Steve at one point that he felt like he was going to die. I leaned over the ropes and said, "Look, Muhammad, I'm 45 years old with diabetes. If I can do this, so can you. You're a young man!" I spent the rest of the drill encouraging him to keep going, and others, like Tommy, joined in to keep him going, too.

As Steve drove me home later, I asked if he had any amateur fights. I knew he had mentioned it before, but I couldn't remember. He never had any, but he had a lot of street fights, and had trained a lot in different boxing gyms. "Some people say you can't be a coach if never had any fights, but that depends on the person," he said. Our talk made me feel better about continuing in boxing, albeit behind the scenes. Next month, I'll buy a book on coaching and study it in preparation for getting a coach's license.

Damn!

I almost backed out of going to the Sabre Room for JJ, Mort and Erin's fights last night. Earlier yesterday morning, a doctor I went to see for a second opinion confirmed the worst: I actually have diabetes. The A1c blood test made it very clear. According to USA Amateur Boxing rules, I can no longer be approved to box in competitons.

It was very hard watching Erin during her fight, knowing that I will never get a chance to do the same thing. I spar from time to time in the gym, but that's not the same thing. The upside is that I can apply to be licensed as an amateur boxing coach, and no medical restrictions play into that. I'm not going to choir rehearsal tonight, as I have reservations to see a cabaret show. It's just as well. . .I'm not in the mood for Glynn gloating over me not being able to compete. He always said he was praying to me to stop boxing. I guess he got his wish to an extent.

Mort appears to be experiencing the same thing JJ did when he won the Golden Gloves last year -- not getting fights because guys are afraid to fight him. His opponent actually showed up last night, but turned around and said he was too sick to fight. JJ won against his opponent, but he was throwing a lot of wild punches, and dropping his hands a lot.

Erin's uncle John, a former professional boxer, helped Steve out in the corner during her fight. Her opponent was a 17-year-old girl who regularly spars with the guys at the boxing club she attends in Harvey, IL. Erin didn't get hurt badly, but the other boxer just kept putting pressure on her. She also lost one of her contacts. Erin had an 8-count called on her three times. Steve was stepping into the ring to stop the fight after the third time, but the referee stopped it first.

Earlier, Steve pointed out that I made a mistake thinking Erin was the first woman out of Loyola Park to get a fight. I forgot about Lan, who had a fight at Hamlin; Sara, Mike's ex-wife, who had a match at Brooks; and teens Essence and Crystal, who had fights. "Trying to make Loyola Park look like it's against women fighting?" Steve laughed.

Friday Night Quiet

I arrived at the gym around 6:20 PM, and Mary let me in. For about 45 minutes I was alone, so I didn't turn the bell on so the ringing wouldn't attract people in. I knew with the weather being a little warmer and Steve being out of the gym that night, somebody would roam in just to look. One teenaged boy peeked in, did a double take when he saw me, and left.

Tim came in eventually, followed by Tommy, Graubien, and Muhammad. Tommy explained he had been very sick for three weeks, which was why he was gone for awhile. He was surprised to find the gym so empty.

Sometime later, five little boys came in. As usual, I had to tell them to get off the bags. One of the kids I recognized as having come in before, so he knew he wasn't supposed to fool around. Fortunately, I didn't have to deal with them long. Jose followed them in and put them all out of the fieldhouse. "They were messing with Robert, then they were playing around in the woodshop, and then I saw them come in here," Jose said.

I was nodding off near 11:00 PM, when my phone rang. I got up to get it, and it was JJ telling me that he won his fight at the Hollywood Casino in Aurora, but Keith lost his because he gassed out early. He and Steve were in the car, still a half-hour out from Chicago. JJ told me the gym would be open this Sunday. I'll go, but I'll have to cut the workout short. I've got reservations to a cabaret show later that afternoon.

Okay, That Was Hard

Erin sparred with Mike first last night. She has a fight lined up at the Sabre Room next week. I believe she may be the first female out of Loyola Park Boxing Gym -- at least since I've been there -- to get a fight. Mike, as usual, was being helpful by giving out pointers. The others in the gym, with the exception of Kate, Sarah and Tim, were not paying attention to the sparring. That is, until they noticed Steve cleaning blood up from the canvas.

Erin bloodied Mike's nose, and he stood in the middle of the ring for several moments with a tissue up to his face. I got the bleach for Steve, and he used an old shirt to clean up. Mort was the first to notice. "What the hell happened?" he said. They all looked at Erin with new respect after that.

I also sparred with Erin, and dealt with the possibility that I might get bloodied up, too. I got rocked instead. The first time her left hook connected, I thought to myself, "I almost got knocked the hell out. Okay." Then I was caught with a jab, as I moved in and put pressure on. Like everyone else, she's taller than I, so I kept focusing on her mid-section as opposed to trying for her head most of the time. The third time, she smashed me in the head with a left hook, and I tried to play off the fact that I became unsteady on my feet.

Steve gave me a suspicious look and asked, "Are you okay?" "Nothing's wrong with me. I'm fine," I lied. "You sure?" he asked. I kept reassuring him I was, and the sparring continued. Later when he drove me home, he told me he was not only concerned that I might get hurt, but that Erin might feel nervous about getting into the ring again if I did. She knocked out Crystal several months ago. If I had been laid out in the ring behind Mike having his nose jacked up, it might have been very hard for Erin to feel comfortable about stepping back into a ring. She kept apologizing for hitting Mike right before she caught him in the nose.

Erin has a good right, and I now I know, her left isn't bad, either. She just has to not hesitate when throwing punches, and she could be big trouble for an opponent.

Raphael came in and picked up his camrecorder from me. Hopefully, he'll come back soon with a copy of Mort's fight from this past Saturday.

Keith showed up, as he has a match at the Hollywood Casino in Aurora on Friday. I opted not to go to that one, and open the gym instead. Otherwise, the gym would be closed both Friday and then on Wednesday for the Sabre Room matches. I'm kind of hesitant about asking Les if I can leave early next Wednesday, considering I've taken off time during the day three times this month for doctor's visits already. I have the option of making up the time by coming in early or staying late, but I don't want to give the impression I'm always taking off for this and that.

A new guy, Q, came in, all hyped up about wanting to learn how to box. "Man, all I need are the fundamentals, and I can make some money, for real," he told the guys. "You ain't gonna make money in here," Mort pointed out, and that got a laugh. "If you jump into professional boxing, having never had any amateur experience, you're gonna get knocked around. Here, in the amateurs, is where you not only learn how to box, but you learn to love the sport," Steve told Q.

Final Night At The Gloves

Steve caught up with Keith late in the afternoon on Friday to apologize for having the dates wrong for Keith's championship match. Dave of Evanston Boxing Club had broken the bad news to Keith earlier that morning. "I dropped everything and ran out to find Steve," Keith told me at the Gloves last night. He found JJ and got Steve's phone number. JJ called Steve right after Keith left and told him, "He knows." Keith was still salty about the whole thing on Saturday night, and I can't blame him. If I was in that situation, I wouldn't be happy, either. Unfortunately, things happen. What are you gonna do?

Raphael, who none of us had seen in about a couple of years, showed up out of the blue last night. He left his camrecorder with me because he wanted to see Mort's fight, but couldn't stay. Mort and Tony's fights didn't take place until late in the evening. We all thought he had gone to Las Vegas, but Raphael had stayed in the city to finish a massage therapy course. He'll come by the gym later this week to pick up the camrecorder.

Bovino, who trains at the same mixed martial gym that Tony does, won the trophy in the super heavyweight division. Tony also won a trophy against a guy who trains at a rival mixed martial arts facility. The coach of that gym tried to pour cold water on Tony's win by telling him he didn't think Tony really won the fight.

Mort was popped in the jaw hard by his opponent during his match. On Thursday, Simon had also hit Mort in the same place, and he had complained about the pain. Mort responded to the hits by coming back strong on the other fighter. Mort looked very good during the match, while his opponent looked unsure, as Simon did on Thursday. I was taping the match, when in the last moments, the battery gave out. I knew I should have brought the company camrecorder with me, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something might happen to it, so I left it at work Friday night.

I reverted to my old 35mm camera to catch the decision of the fight -- Mort's hand was raised in victory. He was so happy, running around the ring with his trophy for the 178 pound championship. Then he ran upstairs and gave me a hug. I took a picture of him with his trophy and a copy of the Golden Gloves program.

Whoops, The Belt Went Elsewhere

A guy in the super heavyweight category got a walkover last night. He grinned as the green and gold belt was placed around his waist. The female announcer made an unflattering crack about his opponent not showing up. The guy's opponent was supposed to have been Keith.

Steve thought that Keith's match was tomorrow. He swore that's what the Golden Gloves organizers told him. A schedule of matches that they had given him a couple of weeks before revealed that Keith's match scheduled for last night. A big mistake. Dave, the coach at Evanston Boxing Club, claimed that Keith's name had been called several times to come and weigh in. I beat Steve, Mort, JJ and Mike there. I didn't hear any announcements, and the guys came in about 15 minutes behind me. The matches didn't begin until near 8:00 PM, so we all would have heard if Keith's name had been called. Steve wondered later why Dave, or any of the other coaches near who know he's with Loyola Park, didn't mention anything to him about Keith being called. "I could have sent someone to look for him. . .I could have done something," Steve said.

The guy who won by default is out of Windy City Gym. Steve spoke with the guy's coach to see if he would be willing to fight Keith anyway, and earn the belt as opposed to taking a walkover win. Chances of that happening look extremely dim. Keith's phone was down, so Steve couldn't contact him to tell him the bad news. I'm hoping he can catch Keith before our gym opens up tonight. Two years ago at the Gloves, Keith was denied competing because he missed the weigh-in time. He didn't compete in the 2006 tournament, and had said he really didn't want to miss out this time around. I already know Keith is not going to take this well.

In better news, Mort won over Simon in his match. Mort was a slip and duck artist, confounding Simon, who would come back with punches only to find Mort already gone. I put in some money to help pay for a DVD of his match. Mort will pay the other part on Saturday. Les told me I could use the company camrecorder to tape the finals matches. The disks in that camera are smaller than the standard DVD. I'll call the store where the camera was purchased from to find out if they'll be able to transfer images to a standard DVD. That'll save Mort some money if he wins on Saturday and wants a copy of his performance.

I met another celebrity at the Gloves last night. Shonie Carter is a five time champion in mixed martial arts. He was one of the fighters featured on the last edition of Spike TV's "The Ultimate Fighter" where several MMA fighters room together and compete against each other for a contract with the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC). Carter is originally from Chicago. We talked for several minutes like we had known each other for a long time. He told me he likes to hang out at amateur fighting events. "Some of the fighters at the top wouldn't bother. But I tell them to remember when they were starting out and wanting people to come out and support them," he told me. I asked Carter if he had another match coming up soon, and he told me he was waiting for his broken hand to heal. Shonie Carter is a real person, just a regular cool guy.

The Weight and The Fatigue

If I hear one more man complaining about how hard it is to lose weight. . ..this past Friday, Keith was groaning about having to lose two pounds -- two pounds! -- to make weight for the Golden Gloves this upcoming Saturday. "Men lose weight easier than women do. You can do that," I told him. Here I am carrying an extra layer of fat for childbearing purposes, like most women do, and Keith's complaining about going without his favorite foods for a few days. I resent having the extra layer of fat. I'm not ever planning to be pregnant.

Just as bad is when the guys at the gym complain about being tired. I had energy galore when I was in my twenties, and I wasn't hardly working out as nearly as much as I do now. Maybe my generation was built differently, I don't know.

Finals At Curie

Last night, I got to Curie High School about five minutes before any of the fights started at the Tony Zale City-Wide Boxing Tournament. Things seemed to go quicker than they had on Tuesday.

Patrick, a boy I had seen around the fieldhouse before, but not in the gym, had one of the early fights. He lost, and the kids around him were telling him what he should have done afterwards. Didn't sound like they had much tact, either. I thought, "The boy probably feels down, so why are they making it worse?"

Toby (Kevin) was straight out robbed of a decision during his fight. He clearly dominated the kid he was in the ring with. Toby was very light on his feet, and he danced around his opponent after getting off some clear shots. Steve and I were confused, as we had no idea how the judges came to their conclusion.

Diego easily won over his opponent. I like how his dad, mom and his sisters totally support him in boxing. His dad was in his corner during the match.

Mike had a hard time with his opponent, a guy who was just a little more tougher than he was. Mike rushed the guy several times in reaction to being hit, but to no avail, as he lost the fight. "That guy was throwing some hard shots, and he caught me a few times. If he had hit me a few more times like that, I might have been out," Mike said afterwards. His friend, Bill, was at the tournament, and I told him that Mike had mentioned he was having a birthday party. "Yeah, Mike's gonna be thirty, can you believe it?" Bill said. Mike looks a lot younger than that; he has a baby face.

Montrell's fight was the last of the evening, right behind Mike's. He fought a kid named Ed, who was pretty good. "Ed is good," Nate Sr. told me earlier that night, "but I believe Montrell can handle him." Ed had a lot of supporters who crowded around the ring during the fight. The two boys were punching fast and hard, especially during the second half of the 2nd round and most of the third round. Montrell's hand was raised in victory, and Ed's supporters were not happy as they booed the decision.

Standing For The Winners

Took two trains to get out to the City-Wide Boxing Tournament last night. Surprisingly, there were no major problems traveling there, considering the public transportation system has started another renovation project. It looked as if the fights had just started when I walked inside Curie High School, where the matches took place.

Five of the boys -- David, Diego, Kevin, Montrell and Nate Jr. -- competed. David was the only one who lost. Mary commented that it might have been David's first time in the ring. Montrell was up against a kid who didn't appear to be intimidated by him. Montrell's brother, Michael, yelled out instructions from ringside as he taped the match with a video camera. Montrell won his match. It also looked as if all the boys had received new haircuts before their fights.

Mike caught his opponent in the corners and against the ropes several times. Steve was encouraging Mike to take his time and not just throw a barrage of punches. Mike won, so he, like the four boys, go on to the finals on Thursday. I stood up the whole time, not wanting to sit in the hard bleachers to view the fights.

Two guys who had been MIA at the Gloves were there -- Barry and Catchings, the boxing photographer. I was glad to see them both.

Steve drove me home, which is always nice of him and very appreciated by me. That's the main reason I opted to take the train down to the tournament rather than hitch a ride with him. He's always driving the boxers around, which is wear and tear on his car, as well as gas money spent. I figure if I can get to most matches on my own, I'll do that and get a ride back. Les, my boss, is usually good about allowing me to come into work early so I can leave early to get to matches. However, I don't want to abuse the privilege, so I don't ask him all the time.

On the way home, I told Steve I wouldn't be in the gym tonight. He joked, "Where are your priorities?" There's always a Wednesday choir rehearsal the day before Maundy Thursday, which is observed by my church. I'm doing a reading in the middle of the songs the choir is singing on Easter. Margaret told me it was crucial that I have to be there tonight. I did tell her that if Mike won on Tuesday, that I wouldn't be at Maundy Thursday service, however. I always regret missing last year's finals when Sadiq won, because I went to church instead. I don't want to miss if Mike or the boys win this time around.

Steve told me that the City-Wide Tournament, which is named for boxer Tony Zale, used to be a bigger event than it is now. It only runs two days, when it used to run three. Adult boxers aren't encouraged to sign up for it as in the past. The tournament has turned into a youth-orientated event. It also began after the Chicago Golden Gloves, not during the break between the Gloves' semi-finals and finals. Many guys who competed in the Gloves would turn around and compete in the Zale City-Wide, but that doesn't happen much anymore.

Bumps and Knockouts

Mort was all suited up, ready to go, when he was summoned to the weigh-in area during the Golden Gloves this past Saturday night. I could see from where I was sitting in the balcony bleachers that he didn't get good news. He was talking to Steve with an irritated look on his face. It appeared that the tournament organizers and Russell, a boxer from the Harvey gym both didn't have their schedules in order. The Harvey boxer should have had a match during the preliminaries, but he didn't, so Mort was bumped in favor of accommodating him. "I hope his ass gets knocked out," Mort spat. A few fights later, Mort got his wish. Simon, a boxer from Team Z, knocked Russell out hard. Laid the boy out flat. Russell had to be picked up off the canvas.

The best fight of Saturday night was between Adrian, of Team Chicago and Rolando, of Defining. It was non-stop punching action for three rounds. That match received a standing ovation with Adrian taking the win.

There are so many boxing clubs involved in the Gloves this year that I have never heard of before. Also, Windy City Boxing seems to be less of a presence this year, I guess because they don't have a regular training space (they lost their 90+ year old gym a few months ago). JABB Gym is still sort of the new kid on the block, so they don't have as many participants, either. Evanston Boxing Club has a lot of fighters this year, and surprisingly, they appear to be better than they have in the past.

On the way home from the Gloves, Steve got a call from Mort on his cell. Mort forgot to get the DVD of his last match out of Steve's car. Steve pulled over near Foster Avenue, where the both of us waited for Mort, J.J., and Keith to come by in Keith's car. About 15 minutes went by, and it was after 11:00 PM. "Where are those guys? I want to go home and eat. I'm tired!" Steve said. Finally, the guys pull up, and Mort's in the passenger seat. He rolls down his window and says in a Brtish accent, "Do you have any Grey Poupon? In case you don't know, I'm referring to mustard!" Steve was going to get on them for showing up late, but the both of us had to laugh.