Photos of the Old Girl's Fight

Alan called me last night to say that there would be no matches available tonight.  There's a charity boxing show at the Evanston Boxing Club this evening.  There was a possibility that Carlos and I might have gotten some matches, but it was not to be.  The Chicago Park District has several more weeks of exhibition boxing shows, so we'll just have to try again.

I met Barry a couple of days ago at Starbucks, and he gave me pictures that Kitchens had taken during my fight back in September:

I'm hoping to get at least one fight in because Meg and I have a rematch in December.  The next photo shows that I did take some shots to the face:

In the next photo, I'm looking worn out as Alan gives me instructions.  This must have been taken between the second and third rounds:

That was not my headgear; my own is red.  I wish I could have worn my own, because what I was wearing kept slipping.  Headgear and gloves are provided to boxers during Chicago Park District amateur shows, and during the Golden Gloves, as well.  Boxers aren't allowed to use their own gloves and headgear.  The main reason is to keep things on the up-and-up.  Also, the amateur boxing gloves are either red or blue with white to help the judges distinguish between the boxers in the ring.

Birthday Licks and Blood

Today is Pastor Roger's 40th birthday.  On his Facebook page, he wrote that he was "over the hill."  When he came in, I gave him a hug and told him, "You are not over the hill -- don't say that."  After he went to his office, I remembered that I had planned to give him birthday licks.  In grade school, whenever it was someone's birthday, that person would get hits that matched how old they were.  Plus, they would get one lick for bad luck, and one lick for good luck.  Usually the last two hits were harder than the ones that came before.  Depending on how much you liked or disliked the other kid, the previous hits would be soft or very hard.

I announced my intent to give out the birthday licks to him.  Pastor Roger picked up two cups, one that was filled with tea.  "You wouldn't hit a man with glasses, would you?" and we both laughed.  When he put the cups down, I took hold of his arm.  "Uh, no, don't. . ." he started.  I softly tapped him on his shoulder with my fist.  "One for bad luck and one for good luck," I smiled. 

Carlos sparred with Elvin in the gym this evening, and it wasn't long before Carlos was bleeding.  Elvin caught him in the face a few times.  Alan did not bring his workout clothes.  He wiped the blood from Carlos' nose, and a spot of it got on Alan's dress shirt.  "It's okay.  I can get it out with peroxide.  It gets a lot of stuff out including wine," he explained. 

Ralphie and I sparred, and I ended up bopping him in the back of the head.  "Sorry!  I put in an illegal punch," I said, and Ralphie laughed.  We were in for two rounds.

Unfortunately, the Seward Park boxing show for tomorrow was canceled.  Yale had let me know about a boxing show that's taking place in Evanston on Friday.  Alan said he would call Yale to see if any matches are available.

First Time For Everything

Attendance in the gym was light tonight.  Outside of Alan and myself, only Vic, Elvin, Chris and JJ were present.  Rick came in with JJ to continue to work on JJ's boxing style. 

Before we got down to work, the usual group of little boys came in to play in the ring.  Ever since Alan allowed them to do that a few weeks ago, they've been coming back.  I was the gym early because Pastor Roger dropped me off. He and I and several other church members attended the memorial of a guy who used to work as the church's custodian several years ago.  Two of the little boys saw me waiting outside of the gym door.  "Is it open yet?" they asked.  "No, the coach is not here yet," I told them.  Then another of the boys came up asking if Miles had come by.  I didn't know which boy was Miles, but I assumed one he was one of the boys who came by earlier. "He went back to the basketball gym," I said, and the little guy ran off. 
I decided to learn the boys' names when they came back.  The littlest guy is Rashawn.  He looks like he's about six or seven.  The other boys, Savon, Cameron and Miles, are all under the age of twelve, as well.  Rashawn was asking a lot of questions about whether or not any of the heavy bags have ever fallen down.

Igor, whom JJ and I hadn't seen in a long time, walked in with a friend of his.  It wasn't long before he put on a pair of bag gloves and began to hit the 175-lb. bag.  Mary came in and told him that he had to sign up if he wanted to train.  "You're going to be signing up more than half way through the session," she told him.  Igor said it was okay. 

"What's the deal with Igor?  Mary made him sound like he had a problem," Alan said.  "Igor used to drive Steve crazy.  First of all, there's the language barrier (Igor is from the Ukraine, and his command of English is limited), then he asked the same questions over and over again.  Also, he would never spar after he'd said he would," I explained.  Mary told Alan that Igor would be in Monday.

Vic and Alan sparred.  Vic was breathing heavy after one round as he rested in the corner.  "You okay?" I asked.  "Asthma," Vic breathed through his mouthpiece.  He explained to me later that he has had the condition for several years.  "It only bothers me when I exercise," he said. 

I thought I would end up sparring with Vic, and I had already made up my mind to go easy on him.  Instead, Vic came out of the ring, and Alan stayed in.  He motioned to me to come in.  "Why is it that we have never sparred before?" Alan said, as we paced the ring, waiting for the bell to ring.  "I don't know," I answered.  "If you really hurt me, then they'll say you beat up on an old man.  If I hurt you, then they'll say I'm picking on a girl," Alan grinned.  I grinned back, "We can't win either way."  I got some good hooks in on Alan, and he rapped me in the nose.  Afterwards, I rubbed my nose, acting if it was really hurting.  "Aw, I didn't hit you like that," Alan said.  "You did get me in the nose!  But it's okay; it's not broken," I laughed.

Spiderman and Gloves

"Just the little man I wanted to see," I said to Justin when he came in with his dad.  I presented him with the Spiderman action figure I found within a bag of toys that had been donated to my church the other day.  He played with it for part of the evening.  Justin showed it off to his dad, too.  "Did you say thank you?" Carlos asked him.  "Thank you!" Justin told me.

Carlos and I sparred, and I got caught with a jab to the face.  I was able to get him with several well-placed left and right hooks.  We only did one round, and I was beyond pooped out. 

While putting on gloves before I got into the ring with Carlos, I noticed the bag gloves did not have extra covering that comes down over the velco strap.  "Ah, that's one way to tell the difference between the bag gloves and the training gloves," I thought.  It also occurred to me that it has taken me several years to figure that out.  Yes, I can be a little slow on the draw, and that was long before I started taking hits to the head in boxing gyms.  Bag gloves are designed to go on and off easily.  Twelve ounce to twenty ounce gloves are common for training purposes.

Eight ounce and ten ounce gloves are used more for competition.  However, different sized boxers and boxers in different weight classes need different sizes of gloves. There are still not a lot of variety available for women who box.  Hopefully, as the sport grows more among females, there will be more gloves to choose from.

I invited Pastor and Virginia to come to the gym on any Monday, since they won't be able to go to my match in December.  Hopefully, when they do come in, I'll be sparring with someone so they can see me in action. 

Elvin and Chris sparred last night, and Elvin caught Chris with a huge punch to the face.  Chris fell back into the corner, and I saw that he tried to shake the cobwebs out of his brain.  "I saw where he got you with an uppercut while you were in the corner, too," I told Chris afterwards.  "An uppercut?  I couldn't tell. All of the punches felt the same to me," he said. 

JJ's Lessons

Rick, who's a boxing official, as well as a coach, came in with JJ last night.  Rick set up a camera to record JJ's moves so they could work on improving them.  "There are people who can box, but not everyone who boxes can teach boxing," Rick told Alan and I later.  That's true.  I often find myself stumbling over words in order to explain technique to people.  I have it in my head, but I can't always communicate it like I want.  I have to work on that. 

Leon and Ieisha were no shows again.  Oscar wasn't there, either.  Vivian and Ashley came in, did a short workout, then they left.  Jamil complained of not feeling well, and he was gone before the evening ended, too.  Carlos came in, but he didn't have Justin with him.  Mike came in; he told me that he saw the video of my fight on YouTube.  "You were Joe Louis, and your opponent was Muhammad Ali," he said.

Apparently, I have not been throwing my right all the way out.  Alan told me, "Don't shorten it, extend your arm and turn your leg into it."  "I've been working on the overhand right, but it doesn't come out the way I want," I told him.  "Then don't use that punch.  Use the other ones in your arsenal and modify them to make them work for you," the coach replied.  I continued to shadowbox, and worked on body punches and hooks, a set of punches that I seldom seem to use while sparring.  I'm going to have to employ them more, especially for the match in December.

When I arrived at work this morning, I discovered that someone had dropped off a box of clothes and a bag of toys for the food and clothes pantry.  Fitz, the custodian, helped me put them away.  I went through the bag of toys and found a Spiderman action figure.  "Justin might like this," I thought to myself, as I took it back to my office.  If he comes in with his dad tomorrow, I'll give it to him.

"When is your match?" Pastor asked me before I left work today.  "It's on December 9th, the day after my birthday," I told him.  Virginia said, "That sounds like that's on a Wednesday."  "Yes, it is.  We can't go," Pastor said.  Prayer meeting and the Adult Bible Study take place on Wednesday nights.  I thought to mention Sheridan Park, which has a boxing show later this week.  However, there is no guarantee there'll be a fight for me there. 

JJ Takes All Comers

I emailed the clip of my first fight that's on YouTube around to various people.  My stepmother called to say that she didn't watch it.  "I didn't want to see you get hurt!" she said.  Pastor Roger took a little while to watch it, but he did.  I asked if he had any advice. "I don't know much about boxing.  I'm not sure how it's scored.  But if you had cornerned your opponent and kept hitting her, would you have won?" he asked me.  "I probably would," I answered, thinking about the mistakes I saw on the clip.  "Then that's the best advice I can give you," he laughed.

"Where's Ieisha?" Alan asked me last night.  She hasn't been in for awhile, and neither has Leon.  JJ came in last night, expecting to have another round of sparring with Leon.  Instead, JJ took on everyone else who was available, including Chris, a guy who came in with Earlvin (I'll have to check the spelling of his name).  Jamil told me that his jaw was still hurting from when JJ hit him the week before.  Jamil's lip was cut when they mixed it up again last night.  Even Alan took a turn with JJ.  "I'm so out of shape," Alan told me right before he got inside the squared circle.  He lasted two rounds with JJ.  "I sparred with JJ once, back in 2003 or 2004.  I never got a lick in on him.  He was too fast," I said.  Alan figured that JJ did about nine rounds altogether. 

Justin was heavily engrossed with his hand-head video game when I asked him, "Do you watch Sesame Street?"  "I did when I was a baby," he said.  His answer reminded me of Spanky McFarland in an old "The Little Rascals" short, telling an adult, "When I was a kid. . .", despite of the fact that Spanky wasn't too far out of the crib himself.  "How come?" I asked, assuming that all little kids watch Sesame Street.  Justin just shrugged his shoulders. I was almost eight years old when that show premiered on TV.  Despite of the fact I was a little out of the target range, I watched it.    I guess kids find other things -- like video games, for example -- more fascinating these days. 

Mike's Spotlight

Mike, otherwise known as Country, is featured sparring in this video.  He's the guy in red, sparring with another guy also named Mike:




Here's Mike (in red again) sparring with Anarbol:


Lastly, Mike spars with Brian:

JJ's Spotlight

Here are videos of JJ sparring in the gym. He's sparring with Anarbol, who trains out of Brooks Park.





In this video, JJ spars with Paul L.

You Tube Woman

Two little boys walked in the gym.  I had seen them before; they usually are with several other boys.  I was talking to a new man who came in the gym this evening (unfortunately, I didn't get his name).  I waved to the boys.  Alan walked in a few moments later, and they asked him could they hit the bags.  Alan told them they could, and they rushed to put gloves on, and they got into the ring.  After a few moments, I heard the smaller one, who looked to be about five years old, wondering how to use the punch mitts.  His buddy, who looked to be seven years old, wore gloves. 

I stopped to show them how to use the pads and how to throw punches.  They wanted to wear the two chest protectors in the gym.  I helped them put them on, but they were too big.  It was comical to see, especially on the littlest guy.  They played around in the ring, with me giving pointers from the sidelines, until it was time for Carlos and Jamil to spar.

Carlos also sparred with Johnny, then myself. In the middle of the second round he and I were mixing it up, Carlos popped me in the stomach.  I stopped and backed up, my hands covering my stomach.  "Are you okay?" Carlos asked.  "I'm okay," I breathed, then boom! I popped him in the head.  Afterwards, he said, "I don't think I hit you that hard.  I think I just caught you in a good spot."  He was right; he didn't hit me as hard as he could have.  But a body punch in the right place is a leveler to an opponent.

Right before we all left for the night, Carlos told me he saw the fight I had at Loyola Park with Meg last month on YouTube.  It took me awhile to find it, but here it is:



The first thing I noticed was, "Damn, I need to lose more weight!"  The second thing I noticed was all the hesitating and pawing I was doing.  I've got to step up the training, and cut down on the food.  A boxing exercise DVD came in the mail today, featuring the couple who put out the Balasz Boxing newsletter (http://www.balaszboxing.com/).  I always watch exercise DVDs before I actually work out with them.  From what I saw, it looks like a great workout.  I appreciated that one of the guys in the DVDs actually admitted that he was getting tired.  You never hear that out of anyone in other exercise DVDs.

This second YouTube video features Meg again in the fight I saw her in at Hamlin Park recently. 



It's nice to have these "fight films" up so I can study them before our rematch in December.

Craig, who runs the blog The Broken Heart of Rogers Park (http://www.morsehellhole.blogspot.com/) ran a picture of Diego, Kevin, Kenny, Gus, and the other boys who attend the kids' boxing program.  A guy commented that they thought a couple of the boys were flashing gang signs.  Some were holding up peace signs and "#1" signs, but gang signs, no.  Too many of the people who comment on Craig's blog want to believe that all of the African-American and Hispanic kids in Rogers Park are gang-affiliated.

Cool In The Ring

"I don't think Missy realizes how hard she hits.  That's why I won't get into the ring with her," Vivian told me tonight in the gym.  Missy doesn't hit as hard as Ieisha, but she hits hard enough.  She also keeps her composure very well while sparring. 

A blow dead on my nose nearly took me down.  "Are you okay?" she asked me.  I shook my head to get back into the present.  "Yeah, I'm alright," I answered.  "You don't ask me if I'm okay if you hit me," Alan joked with her from his position outside of the ropes.  Missy then got in an uppercut during our second round that almost took me out.  I was not wearing my mouthpiece because I kept gagging on it.  After the round ended, I checked my bottom teeth.  Fortunately, none of them were loose.  "You've got blood on your lip," Alan said, as he took my gloves off.  "Again?" I said. 

"The both of you were very composed in the ring," Alan commented.  I was thinking back when I was a kid in street fights, throwing wild punches and kicks.  The few fights I won were due to lucky blows I threw.  These days, I realize that one has to fight focused with a cool head.

JJ was in the gym, and he was surprised I was able to have gotten a fight.  "I thought you weren't able to get fights," he said.  I explained about being able to do exhibition fights.  "How long do you think you'll fight?" he asked me.  "Until I'm fifty.  That's a couple of years from now," I answered.  "You're forty-eight?" JJ asked in amazement.  "In December," I grinned.  "I didn't think you were that old," JJ said.

Leon was happy to mix it up with JJ in the ring.  I was on the side of the ring, having my usual conversation with Justin about the bag of toys he always brings with him.  I heard some loud thuds, and looked up to see Leon and JJ throwing bombs at each other.  I was worried that one of them was going to end up laying on the canvas.  Leon was very tired afterwards, hanging over the ropes breathing hard.

Jamil was very worn out after he was sparring with JJ, as well.  Alan told me he would love to get in and move around with JJ.  "I wanted to the other time, remember, but there were a lot of guys in that day who needed to get in the ring.  They're paying for the gym, while I'm just the old man who wants to jump around." 

Alan had pictures of himself with legendary trainer Angelo Dundee, the guy who trained Muhammad Ali.  They were very nice shots. 

No Fighting After Eating

I usually try to eat something a couple of hours before I go to the gym.  I want the food to be digested long before I start hopping around on the canvas.  I ate too close to the time I normally go there.  A handful of granola was my only meal earlier that day, so I was starving by the time I got home. Four (!) hot dogs were still sitting on my stomach when I got to Loyola Park.    There was no way that I was going to spar.  Johnny told me he felt the same.  He had wolfed down a bowl of chicken noodle soup just before he came in.

The cup of energy drink that I had with the hot dogs pushed me to have enough get-up-and-go to have good workout.  I spent several rounds working on defense, since that is a weak spot of mine.  I also worked on a left uppercut-right uppercut-left hook/right hook combination. 

Jamil, Leon, Vic, Carlos, Missy and Alan asked about the other fights that took place at Hamlin Park last Thursday (Carlos and Alan had gone, but didn't stay for the entire boxing show).  I told Alan about Meg's fight with a woman who appeared to be bigger in size than her.  "You could have had a fight with the bigger gal," Alan said.  That's true, but that is not how things worked out that night.  The Brooks Park boxing show is the day after my birthday in December, according to the calendar.  Meg and I are supposed to have a rematch there.  I have a little over a month to train for that. 

Carlos sparred with Leon.  When Carlos took his headgear off, I noticed a spot of red on his right cheek.  "You've got some blood on you," I pointed out, thinking that he had a cut on his face.  The blood was actually coming from his right nostril.  "I got hit in the face again," he said.  "Dad, you're really bleeding," Justin told him, but it wasn't that bad.  "Yeah, I didn't keep my hands up.  I didn't do the thing that I tell you to do all the time," Carlos replied.  Lately, he's been teaching his son some boxing techniques. 

Carlos told Alan that he liked the idea of getting into professional boxing.  Alan explained that amateur boxers get paid when they fight at private shows (show fights).  Boxers must have a license, however.  Park District boxing shows are about the only place amateur boxers can fight in Chicago without a license, which explains how I was able to have a fight last month.  Sometimes, if a boxer arrives at show fight without a license, the money that would have been paid to him or her will go towards their license.  The last I checked, amateur boxers get paid $25.00-$30.00 for fighting in private shows.  The coaches get paid, too, but not much more than the boxers. 

Night At Hamlin

"That was a close fight at Loyola Park a few weeks ago.  I thought you won that," Shifty the referee told me at Hamlin tonight.  "I thought you punched well," Gus agreed.  We were standing in the gym at Hamlin Park.  Carlos and I were waiting to hear if we were going to have any fights. A line of women walked into the gym, and I thought I might have a chance.  Unfortunately, I had no match.  Carlos didn't get a fight, either. Gus got a fight, but he lost.

There was the possibility that Johnny could get a fight.  He got there about ten minutes to seven. "Man, isn't that just the way?  I'm too tired to take advantage of it!" he said.  The match didn't get made.  Alan introduced him to the opponent, whose name was Steve.  Johnny hoped that Steve would be available for an upcoming boxing show at Sheridan Park.

Deep Voiced Mike, who hadn't been to Loyola Park in awhile, attended the Hamlin fights, and so did Ieisha.  Carlos had given me a ride to Hamlin, but he had to leave early because he had to go to work tonight.  Alan left early, too.  The rest of us stuck around until the end.

Meg, the woman I was supposed to have a match with, ended up fighting with another woman from Hamlin.  Meg's opponent was bigger than she was, but Meg won because she was more aggressive. She also received a special award for being Hamlin's fighter of the year. Bill told me that Meg and I will be matched up at the Brooks Park show, which is a few weeks away.  "I'm looking forward to it!" Meg told me earlier when she saw me. "Damn", I thought, "I really have to train hard." 

There was a bad fight where one guy was fighting like a grade school girl, throwing windmill punches.  When the guy lost, he copped an attitude and remained in his corner as the winner was declared.  Professional boxer David Diaz, who had trained at Hamlin, was called up to hand out the trophies after that fight.  He was given a hometown hero's welcome.  

Ieisha drove me home afterwards.  For a minute, I almost had a ride home with Johnny.  He was on his motor scooter.  I've never been on a scooter before, and I was looking forward to it.  However, I had my gym bag with me, and it would have been hard to hang on with that load hanging off my shoulder.

Nausea In The Ring

Pop, pop, pop went Oscar as he worked over my head while we sparred for two rounds.  I was made aware real fast that I was not covering up very well.  In the beginning of the first round, I had energy as I backed up Oscar against the ropes.  Quickly, what little stamina I had disappeared.  In the middle of the second round, my mouthpiece was irritating my gag reflex.  I fought nausea as I tried to shut down Oscar's flurries.  "I will not throw up," I thought to myself.  I hung over the ropes afterwards, extremely winded.  I can't start running on a regular basis because my knees can't take the constant banging anymore.  However, I have to do something to build up my stamina -- and soon.

Jamil told me that he got a full-time job.  I was happy to hear that.  Most of the young men who are in the gym now, and who have come through the door in the past have been good guys. Unfortunately, there are so many young men these days living aimless lives these days; I'm always glad to be around young men who are trying to do the right thing.

Carlos will call me tomorrow if he's able to give me a ride down to Hamlin.  Carlos and Oscar will most likely get fights.  I'll bring my gear down, but I'm not expecting to be matched up.  Johnny is planning on going, too, even though he might not get a fight, either. 

A Sure Thing Falls Through

Meg already has a fight this upcoming Thursday, so it looks like I won't be able to avenge my previous loss to her.  Even when it appears a fight is guaranteed in the boxing world -- regardless if it's an amateur or professional match -- there's still the chance the deal might fall through.  I'll go to Hamlin Park's boxing show, but now it's doubtful that I'll get matched up with anyone. 

I still have to train as if something is coming up, so I was sparring with Oscar.  Before we got into the ring, I heard Alan telling him, "Really hit her.  I mean, don't go crazy, but don't hold back."  He and I went two rounds, and I didn't think I did so well.  Oscar will rush in with a flurry of punches and put his head way down.  I tried to catch him with uppercuts, but I couldn't get the right angle.  Oscar also hit me in my left eye.  "I can still see out of it, so it must not be that bad," I thought to myself.  He backed me up in a corner, and I quickly turned out of there, something I've never done before.  Both Oscar and Alan told me that I did very well, but I felt like I was floundering.  The night before, I had watched a DVD about defense, but I seemed to have forgotten all of the moves when I was in the ring.

Ieisha got Oscar in the face several times when it was their turn.  I told her a couple of times to throw her right hook, the same one that knocked me down a few months ago.  Oscar kept leaving himself open on his left, but Ieisha wasn't able to take advantage of it.  After the first round, she told Alan and I that she was bleeding, but neither of us saw any blood.  When the second round ended, she indeed did have a cut inside her upper lip.

JJ was there last night, and he sparred with Carlos.  This time, Justin was paying more attention to his dad's presence in the ring than usual.  Justin was also attempting to hit the double end bag.  Whenever someone notices him hitting any of the bags, the boy gets shy, smiles, and puts his hands in his pockets.

Alan showed me recent pictures of his boy, Matthew, who's 16 years old.  He's in military school, and looked every inch of a soldier with his close cut hair and uniform.  "Who is the woman standing next to him?" I asked.  "That's my wife," Alan replied.  His wife is a pretty woman, whose husband and son both tower over. 

Before I left to go to the gym last night, Pastor Roger called me.  He's been battling the flu, and his voice was very deep.  "What's up, Barry White?" I joked.  "I've been in bed for five days, and I've only been able to talk again for about an hour.  You don't want what I've got," he said, sounding absolutely miserable.  "I can't get sick, I've got a fight this week," I said.  Of course, I didn't know at that point that my fight was gone.  "If you're still feeling sick tomorrow, stay at home," I continued.  Pastor Roger doesn't believe in infecting others when he's ill, unlike my former boss, Les.  There were many times I was at the gym, sick as a dog, because I had caught a cold from Les, who didn't have enough sense to stay at home when he was sick.

Justin's Toys

For a long time, several of us in the gym thought that Wednesday nights were Carlos' regular time to babysit his son Justin.  "No, he wants to come here with me.  He likes the people, and he likes that you all talk to him," Carlos smiled.  Justin and I got into a conversation about the toys his brings to the gym.  He likes action figures, and had several that evening, including Spiderman and Silver Surfer.  The boy is perfectly happy to go to a corner with his bag of toys when he's there and get lost in a make-believe world.  Occasionally, he does pay attention when his dad is sparring. 

Justin was also telling me about when he was in pre-school.  I went to Head Start, but I told Justin that I didn't remember any of it.  "I remember Kindergarten," I said.  "That was a looong time ago," Justin grinned.  I had to grin, too, because he was right.  Over forty years have gone by since then.

Missy and I sparred for two rounds.  She had no mouthpiece, so it was more like doing defense drills, with me practicing how to deflect incoming punches.  "I think I get caught a lot because I'm leaving my jab out for too long," I told Alan afterwards.  "You have to throw it all the way out," he said. 

My energy level has been very low lately.  I haven't been eating much, and I've been taking long naps in the early evenings.  Other than when I'm at Loyola Park, I haven't been exercising.  I usually walk to my job at church, but in another few weeks, it's going to be too cold outside.  I'll have to take the bus. 
Maybe my slow down has to do with the seasons changing.  That's usually the main reason.

Advice From The Guys

The gym was packed Monday night.  JJ and Mike showed up, and they sparred with several of the guys.  The both of them were happy and surprised to hear that I'd had a fight and have another one coming up next week.  "You have an excellent stance," Mike told me.  "If you throw combinations, you'll catch her with one of those punches.  Keep your guard up.  She can throw punches all day, but none of them will matter much when it comes to scoring if she can't land them." 

Johnny told me that he noticed that Meg ran a lot in the ring during a match a couple of weeks ago.  "She throws one punch then dances away for the rest of the round.  If you can tie her up in the corners, then you can get a lot of punches in."

JJ said, "You need to get in there fast because the rounds are short.  It's almost like you have to come out brawling."

Mike and I ended up sparring for a couple of rounds. I had Mike up in the corner, giving him body shots to his right side.  "Work both sides then back up to the head," Alan told me. 

After all of the advice, I'm feeling more confident about facing Meg again.  But I have to practice, practice, practice.

Taunting Pops

"I really didn't want to spar tonight," Alan told me as we were leaving the gym last night.  "Why did you then?" I asked.  "Eh, sometimes I think I get taunted into it.  The guys want to take Pops on," he answered.  I suspect a lot of young men have harbored the "I can beat the old man," idea for eons.  I always figured that just because a man is over a certain age doesn't mean that he's forgotten methods of survival. Alan sparred with Carlos earlier.  After their last round, I saw spots of blood on Alan's shirt.  "One of you is bleeding," I pointed out.  Crimson seeped from Carlos' nose, and Ralphie grabbed a towel to wipe it away.

Ralphie and I sparred for a couple of rounds.  He turned while he was up against the ropes, and one of my punches caught him in the back.  Later, I was concerned because Ralphie injured his back in an car accident some time ago.  Ralphie didn't seem any worse for wear after our rounds, but I still felt bad about doing that.

Pastor Roger and Virginia returned from their vacation yesterday, and he was in the office this morning.  It was my day off, and I was waiting for Paulette, a fellow choir member, to come by.  We were going grocery shopping.  "I thought you weren't allowed to fight," he said, when I called and told him about the match I had.  "Park District fights aren't counted on a boxer's amateur record, so I was able to do so," I told the Pastor.  I invited Pastor and Virginia to the rematch I have with Meg in a couple of weeks, but they have to check their schedule. 

In the meantime, I've stepped up the exercise and watching what I eat more closely . I've been working out with kettlebells twice a week, and I really like them.  I've been walking to work every day (although that'll change once the bone cold weather comes in and snow is on the ground).  I keep a food diary.  The only thing I'm not crazy about concerning the diary is having to write my weight down every day.  When I was going to Weight Watchers a few years ago, people were advised not to weigh themselves constantly.  It could serve as a discouragement, especially when the weight doesn't come off as quickly as one wants. 

When Alan Is Away

Mary told me, "Remember, no sparring," after she learned Alan was not coming in last night.  "No, I never let them spar when the coach is out," I told her.  Carlos, Leon, Jamil, and Oscar had other ideas, however.

When Steve was in charge of the gym, Friday was sparring night.  Rarely did sparring take place on Wednesday unless some of the guys had fights coming up.  I think it was easier to enforce the no sparring rule whenever Steve was out, because he only allowed it on one day.  Alan has sparring each time the gym is open, so people have gotten used to that.

I turn around to see Carlos wearing headgear.  "You're sparring?" I asked.  He answered in the affirmative.  "Mary doesn't want people sparring when Alan's not here," I told him.  "Oh, we're just going to move around in the ring," Carlos answered.  "Yeah, we're going light," said Leon, who was ready to go.  Both his headgear and gloves were on.  I got a bad feeling in my stomach, as I remembered how Deo was injured by Leon.  "Do sparring drills," I ordered, hoping it would not turn into full-on sparring.

Stay pretty boxing headgear at BoxingDepot.com

It wasn't long before I heard pops that indicated the guys were going harder than they should.  I stopped my workout to watch the action closely.  Several times, I had to warn Leon to take it easy.  Carlos took hard shots, Jamil and Oscar took heavy hits to their bodies.  "They're not little kids, so they should be able to spar.  You're a coach," Ieisha told me.  "Yeah, but I'm not a Chicago Park District employee.  Mary's against sparring when Alan's not here because of liability issues," I answered.    If someone becomes injured, and it's discovered there was no official supervision involved, game over.  The Park District could be sued, I could also be named in a lawsuit because I'm an official volunteer, and worst of all, the gym could be shut down.

Barry called me the day before to congratulate me on the match I had Friday.  A check of the calendar says I have a little over two weeks to get ready for my rematch with Meg.

Finally showed Justin my Kindergarten class picture.  The boy appeared to be amused, especially when I pointed out my five-year-old self.  I also showed Ieshia, who laughed at how formal some of the boys were dressed.  "That's how kids looked in 1967," I laughed.  Carlos picked me out right away.  "You look the same," he said.  "Yeah, I do, except for the gray hair," I smiled.  

For awhile I've been putting in one entry a day for a "Follow Your Passion" contest sponsored by an aspirin company.  The grand prize is $25,000.00.  If I won that, I'd probably buy a cobra bag for the gym.  I miss the old one that used to be there.

The Long Welcomed Loss

Johnny, Oscar and I sat in the boxing gym, as the activities of Loyola Park's annual boxing show swirled around us.  "I'm worried that I might not get a match.  My friends are going to to be mad if they show up tonight, and I'm not fighting!" Johnny said.  "Make it up to them, and take them out for drinks," I smiled.  If Jamil had showed up, Johnny could have been matched up with him.  Unfortunately, there were no opponents for Johnny last night. 

Oscar had a fight lined up early on, but it was canceled for reasons that I'm not sure about.  I think the guy he was going to fight ended up in a match with someone else.  However, Bill and Alan came up with an opponent for Oscar to fight at Hamlin Park's upcoming boxing show.

Ieisha arrived a little later.  At that time, it was still unclear whether her or I would have a fight that evening.  Alan was in another room, working it out with Bill.  Most of the youngsters from Loyola were already matched up, including Diego, Kenny, Gus, Marquis, and Ed (Man-Man).  There was a woman who came inside the gym earlier, looking around.  I wondered if she was one of Bill's fighters. Several moments later, I learned that she was Meg, the fire fighter that Alan had told me about earlier.  Alan and Bill decided that she would make a better match  for me instead of Ieisha, due to the fact that we were roughly the same height.  "We don't want you two to tear each other's heads off, but mix it up a little," Bill said.  Meg and I shook hands.

An anxiety attack began to slowly swell up inside me, which put a bit of a damper on the fact that I finally had a match.  "Why am I nervous?  I've sparred many times.  This is just one notch up from that," I thought.  The butterflies in my stomach flittered even faster as it dawned on me that Meg was from Hamlin.  Bill, the coach over there, has a rep for turning out what people have called, "the Hamlin killers". 

I sang the National Anthem, dressed in my boxing shorts and the latest jersey printed for the night's event.  It wasn't until later I noticed the wrong date -- September 26 instead of September 25 -- was on it.  I sang the song a little higher than I meant to do, but people seemed to appreciate it.  "I'm impressed.  I didn't know that you sing," Alan grinned. 

Alan and I worked the punch mitts a couple of matches before mine.  "Hit harder," Alan ordered as I threw jabs into the pads.  After I did so, Alan commented, "Shit, Hillari, I know you can hit hard.  Why don't you do that when you spar?"  I explained my rule on not hitting the other women hard because most of them don't have any fighting experience at all.  "I understand that you don't want to hurt people unnecessarily, but you've got to get their respect in the ring."  He put Vaseline on my face.  I had already wrapped my hands. 

Carlos had a match, too that night.  His son Justin was there, and I caught sight of Carlos' wife holding a cute baby boy.  I learned that Carlos has a second son named Jacob.  Alan gathered both Carlos and I.  "In between rounds, I want you to sit on the stool with your legs apart, and your hands down.  Take deep breaths and don't talk.  Let me do all of the talking," he instructed us.  Carlos would unfortunately lose his fight, as did most of the Loyola boxers that night.  I felt that little Marquis was robbed of a win, however.  I thought Diego should have been given the decision in his fight, too.  Ed and Kenny won their matches easily. 

Many people asked me if I was nervous.  "A little," I said, playing off the real terror I was feeling.  "It's good that you're nervous," Alan said, "because it keeps you on edge and alert.  Once you get inside the ring, it'll go away."  Kitchen, whom I hadn't seen in awhile, was surprised to hear I was fighting.  "Oh, this I've got to see," he said.  JJ was also at the show; he helped Barry in the corner.

Shifty was the referee for mine and Meg's match.  "Obey my commands at all times.  When I say stop, you stop.  Touch 'em up," he said, and Meg and I touched gloves.  Suddenly, she looked a lot bigger than she did when we met down the hall in the gym.  The bell rang, and I did my best to wait for her to throw punches before I countered with something.  It wasn't easy, despite the fact that we had a minute and a half rounds to work with.  Meg scored with several hits to my face, head and body.

During the second round, I heard a kid tell me, "You're losing this match!"  "Tell me something that I don't know," I thought to myself.  I just was not getting in close enough to make a difference.  Plus, my headgear kept slipping because I didn't have it on tight enough.  I didn't use mine, but the headgear that the Park District provided.  I quickly put it right when it did, avoiding having a time out so Alan could fix it.  I could hear him calling out instructions to me, as well as Meg's corner giving her pointers.  The audience, with the exception of comments I caught here and there, was like one big blur of sound.

Amazingly, I kept cool throughout.  A lot of people complimented me on the fact that I kept my composure.  The bell rang to end the third round, and I immediately went over to Alan to have him pull my gloves and headgear off.  I then walked over to shake the hand of Meg, Bill, and the guy who was assisting Bill in the corner.  Both men said I did a good job.  Back in the center of the ring, Shifty raised both mine and Meg's arms, but I knew that she won, and I was correct.  "You were really good!  We'll have to work together again!" Meg said after the decision was given.  Bill said that she and I could have a rematch at the Hamlin show.

I was not upset that I lost.  In fact, I figured that I would.  Most boxers lose their first fights.  But I was the happiest little woman in Chicago because of the fact that after nearly nine years, I finally got a chance to actually have a fight.  "You've lost your ring virginity," Alan grinned.

Sparring Virgins

The gym was more crowded than usual last night.  Vic, a new guy came in.  He told me he hadn't boxed in 15 to 20 years.  Vic used to work out at Clarendon with an uncle of his.  He plays soccer a lot, but wanted to get in even better shape.

Ashley and Vivian arrived with two more women.  The guys were already matched up for sparring purposes.  I suggested to Alan that I spar with one of the new women.  There are people who make a habit of always seeking out newbies to spar with, thinking they'll be easy pickings.  Jordan, the know-it-all that used to come in the gym when Steve was the coach, did that all the time.  My purpose was to see if they would be interested, and break them in slowly into sparring.  Vivian straight out said no, but Ashley was game.  After we got into the ring, I noticed that she had long arms.  "Eh, another instance of trying to figure out how to get around that," I thought to myself. 

As I promised, I went light, only tapping her in the face and on her body.  We only went one round.  I had taken my gloves off when Alan said to me, "No, stay in!"  Oscar got in the ring with me, but he didn't wear any headgear.  How things usually go when he and I spar:  I'm able to get a few head shots in, then Oscar starts punching non-stop, backing me up into the ropes and corners.  I was popped in the nose once.  "Are you okay?" he asked.  "I'm fine," I answered, hoping that I wouldn't end up with another deviated septum. 

Later, Ashley was sparring again, without headgear, against one of the new women who came in.  The new woman had headgear on, and struck Alan and I as being very well-composed in the ring.  Ashley kept turning her head as punches came in, and ended up being hit on the back of her head.  "Illegal punch!" I called to the new woman. 

"Bill at Hamlin told me he has a girl whose had a couple of fights.  She's lost both of them, but she's a fire fighter and stays in the ring.  Depending on how tall she is, I'll have to decide whether she's good for you or Ieisha for Friday's boxing show," Alan told me last night.  "A fire fighter?  Despite the fact she's lost her fights, she's probably in great shape," I thought to myself.  I also had the sinking feeling that it might be a "so close, but so far" situation.  A few years ago, I came very close to getting a fight at the boxing show, but it fell through at the last minute. I'll find out on Friday. 

Leon Signs Up

This past Monday, five new people showed up to start the Fall session.  The fifth person (and one of three women) was not exactly new; it was Arin, who used to come in the gym a few sessions ago.  She, like Ieisha, can only attend on one night, however, because of other obligations.  But it was very good to see her again.

The other women, Ashley and Vivian, spent time on the punch mitts.  They appeared not to be interested in sparring at all, which just leaves Ieisha, myself, and Arin (who has sparred in the past), to get into the ring.  I didn't catch the names of the two guys.  Jeremy, who used to workout at Clarendon, also came in.

Work your hands with punch mitts for boxing and MMA.

Leon signed up for the session this time around.  He spent a lot of the time watching the Mayweather/Marquez fight.  I had made a tape of it, and brought it into the gym.  I was going to leave a copy of it there for the gym, but decided to give that copy to Willie.  Willie asked me to make him one when I saw him in church this past Sunday.  I can always make another copy for the gym at another time.

I sparred one round with Oscar, then he went a few more rounds with Carlos.  If I do have a fight lined up for this Friday, I'd rather cool it on doing a lot of sparring.  No sense in me getting hurt before then.   Besides, I was fighting a cold, which thankfully, seems to have disappeared today.

Slugfest Snorefest

"That fight was garbage," Manny said to me when I ran into him outside of the Howard 'L station.  I had to agree that the Mayweather vs. Marquez fight was a washout.  Now I wish I hadn't paid to see it on pay-per-view. 

You know it was a bad night when two of the undercard fights were better than the main event.  Cornelius Lock knocked out Orlando Cruz and Michael Katsidis had some good moments over Vincente Escobedo.  I expected better out of Rocky Juarez during his match with Chris John.  John just danced around Juarez, and hit him at will.  But then, I didn't mind, because I thought the Mayweather/Marquez fight would be exciting.

"What is Marquez doing?" I kept thinking to myself as I munched on pizza (it was a special event, so I figured I turn in the twenty coupons I had to get a free pizza from JB Alberto's).  The man hesitated to throw punches the entire night, and when he did, there were few combinations given out.  Oh, he caught Mayweather in the head a few times, but "Money" just smirked at and out-slicked him.  Mayweather can be beaten, and he probably will one day if he doesn't retire again.  Marquez wasn't the man to do that, however.  His game plan, whatever it was, did not work against his undefeated opponent.

The most exciting part of the broadcast came after the fight when "Sugar" Shane Mosley told Mayweather that he wanted to get a fight with him.  Mosley and Mayweather seemed to be respectful of each other at first, then they got into an argument.  Announcer Max Kellerman was in the middle, trying to bring order.  Mayweather snapped that Mosley disrespected him by interrupting his interview with Kellerman, but it looked like Mayweather had told Mosley to come over in the beginning.  Kellerman tried to get a question in about fighting Manny Pacquiao, then Mayweather turned on the announcer like a Doberman.  "You talk too much", Mayweather snapped, and Kellerman looked taken aback.  As animated as Kellerman used to be during the boxing broadcasts on ESPN, I was surprised he didn't snap back on Mayweather.  Kellerman seemed a bit subdued during all of the fights that night.

Today is the beginning of the Fall session for the Chicago Park District, and as usual, I'm curious to see the new faces who'll show up at the gym tonight. 

Long Arms and Slipping

A guy named David came in last night.  He looked slightly familiar to me.  "I came in on another Wednesday, but the gym was closed," he said.  "That was probably that Wednesday that I couldn't get in, and Alan was out of town," I said.  "I was out of town?" Alan asked.  "Yeah, remember when I told you I came here, but no one was able to open up the door that night?" I said.  "I remember that conversation, but I don't remember where I went out of town," Alan replied.  "It's okay, we all have senior moments," I said.  "No, it's not okay.  I seem to be forgetting things a lot lately," he said.  Alan racked his brain for several minutes, and still couldn't remember.  "It'll probably come to me while I'm in the shower," he said.

Alan sparred with both Oscar and Johnny.  Johnny was a little nervous about getting into the ring with Alan; he hadn't sparred with him before.  Both men have long arms, but Alan's arms are a little longer than Johnny's.  Even though he's in his late 50s, Alan can still take some hits as well.  They did a couple of rounds before calling it quits.  Oscar was caught in the head and face by several of Alan's rights and lefts, simply because he wouldn't keep his hands up.  I kept telling to him to protect his head while he and Alan sparred.

I sparred with Johnny, and barely got around his arms.  I kept going in for body shots, but he would put a left out and effectively keep me back.  Once again, I started off like a firecracker, but by the time the second round was underway, I was worn out.  I managed to get some rights in on Johnny's head, but he got the better of the sparring session.  I was popped in my left eye, but the damage was slight, fortunately for me.  "You have to be right up on him to throw those overhand rights," I heard Alan say from the side of the ring. 

Later, Alan told me that I don't have to duck down so low to avoid punches.  I don't know why I do that, because I'm already low to the ground in terms of height as it is.  "The other boxer can't punch down, so you don't have to go so far down or move a lot to slip their punches," Alan told me. 

I'm looking forward to next Monday because the Fall session begins.  That means there will be a new crop of people, some of whom will hopefully continue to come to the gym for a long time.  The session is starting at somewhat of an inopportune time, however.  Loyola Park's boxing show is next Friday, and Alan is probably going to be focused more on those -- like Oscar, Carlos, Johnny and myself -- who might get matches then.

Shots and Knees

Justin told me that he liked Kindergarten so far.  He was in the middle of the ring, playing with his Spiderman action figures.  "You missed it.  I brought my Kindergarten class picture in, but you weren't here last week," I told him.  Later on in the evening, I attempted to sneak up on him while he was sitting on one of the tires in the gym.  At the last second, he saw me and grinned.  "He's learned to be quick in catching people do that.  I have a hard time sneaking up on him at home," his father Carlos said.

Carlos sparred with Oscar.  Both guys keep coming forward and going non-stop whenever they are in the ring.  It looked as if Oscar had punched Carlos in the stomach.  Carlos crouched down to the canvas and mumbled, "I need to wear a cup."  Turned out that Oscar had scored a low blow.

Alan got in the ring with Carlos next.  Carlos would start to throw his left several times, then stop short.  In between rounds, I told him, "It looks like you're faking him out, but then you don't follow up with a second punch."  "I begin to throw a punch, but then he backs up and is too far away for me to land it," Carlos answered.  I mentioned it to him again when the action resumed.  "I'm trying," Carlos said, while Alan bobbed and weaved.

Earlier in the evening, Mary asked me if I would sing the National Anthem for the field house's boxing show, which will take place on the 25th of this month.  It seems to be a tradition now.  I think I've sung the National Anthem there since 2004.  Mary pulled out a banner to display out front to announce the upcoming show.  "Any of the adults going to be in the show?" she asked.  Alan had been talking to Johnny, Oscar and Carlos.  Later that evening, he would also ask Ieisha.  "I'm not sure," I said, hoping that someone from the adult program might be able to participate.  Several of the kids usually do have matches.  Alan walked in as we were looking at the banner, and Mary asked him the same question.  "Well, I'm trying to get a match for Hillari", he grinned, pointing at me.

My stamina is way down.  I was telling Ieisha there was a time when I would go three or four rounds in the ring.  I remember doing sparring drills with Keith for five rounds once.  I only lasted one round with her last night.  I took a shot to my upper right chest in a sensitive spot (guess what spot), then was stopped momentarily by a body blow.  I went down on one knee to rest, just like I have seen professional boxers do on cable TV.  "You both need to wear chest protectors," Alan said.  I'm going to have to dig mine out of the closet at home and bring it in.

I seem to have had a hard time on the speed bag lately.  I believe it has to do with the platform.  When it was installed in the gym a couple of years ago (one of the free pieces of equipment we received from Everlast when the international boxing championships were in town) it worked like a charm.  No longer did I have to stand on a riser to reach the bag.  The platform could be moved easily to adjust to a boxer's height.  A minor adjustment had to be done to the platform, and handymen were called in to fix it.  I don't know what was done, but now, the platform can't be moved up or down.  So I'm back to standing on one riser, which still doesn't put me up high enough.  I read somewhere that a person's head should reach the halfway point of the speed bag.  If I stand on both risers, I'm too high. 

Save on speed bag platforms at Boxing Depot.

Ieisha and Oscar sparred, and he caught her in the back of the head twice.  She would come in just as he was throwing his right, and it would snake around to the back.  He also threw in an overhand right.  I had done the same thing while she and I were sparring.  "Now I know what that overhand right is!  I will need aspirin for those knocks in the back of my head tomorrow," she said.

What's Up With The Calendar?

Alan called Arturo, who is the coach over at Eckhart Park.  According to the Park District boxing show calendar posted in the gym, there's a boxing show scheduled for today.  Alan was trying to get fights for Oscar, Carlos, and myself.  "I'm weighing people right now," Arturo told Alan.  "What do you mean you're weighing people?" Alan asked.  Turned out that the boxing show was taking place the day Alan called.  That's the second time a date has found to be wrong on the calendar.  I'm going to go to the Park District's actual web site to double check the dates.

I was looking at some pink Everlast boxing gloves in a catalog the other day.  They're cute, but I don't think I would actually buy a pair in that color.  I do have a pair of red ones buried at home.  I used to joke that I picked the red color to match the blood of my opponents.

Yesterday, I stopped in a sporting goods store to see if they had any kettlebell exercise videos.  The fitness equipment section, where the exercise DVDs were, was on the top floor of the building.  No kettlebell DVDs, but they had some limited boxing equipment.  I saw an Everlast heavy bag, and wished that I could put one in my apartment.  It's doubtful that my landlord would let me hang one.  Fortunately, there are free-standing ones available.

Great heavy bags by Ringside and Everlast.

This past Wednesday, the crowd was small.  Ralphie, Oscar, and Johnny came in.  Ralphie battered Johnny several times while they sparred.  Johnny wasn't throwing many punches back after awhile; the man was noticeably tired.  Near the end of the last round they did, Ralphie did a dramatic fall against the ropes after Johnny landed a light punch on him.  Ralphie shook his head as if he had been stunned.  We all laughed about that.  Johnny said he saw the same trick done during a professional fight.  When the opponent came in for the kill, the boxer who was playing injured nailed him.

Oscar and I sparred, and my energy was high during the first round.  I stunned him several times with rights to the head.  I still have to concentrate on throwing hooks more.  I was winded most of the second round, but managed to hang in there, pinning Oscar against the ropes and in the corners a few times.  "That was the best I'd ever seen you spar," Alan told me.

Carlos and Justin were no shows, and I was a little disappointed.  I had brought my Kindergarten class picture in to show Justin, who started school this week.  Alan was amazed that I still had my class picture from back then.  Unfortunately, I only have that class picture, plus the ones from second, fifth and eighth grades.  The other class pictures were destroyed (don't ask), and I don't remember sitting for a third grade class picture.  Ralphie and Johnny guessed which kid I was right away.  Alan made wrong guesses until I pointed myself out. 

Quiet Action Night

"You gotta sign up", Alan told Sadiq last night. "This is why the gym is empty; people aren't allowed to work out for free anymore." Indeed, only Carlos, Justin, Johnny, and myself were in attendance last night.

Carlos and Johnny sparred. "Doesn't Carlos look like he's slowing up?" Alan asked me. "Yes, he does," I answered. "I'm tired tonight, and I still have to go to work later on," Carlos said. Justin wasn't paying too much attention to the action. He blissfully played with his Super Mario video game off to the side of the ring.

Turns out that Justin had orientation at his school earlier this week. He doesn't actually start Kindergarten until next Tuesday. I told him, if I remember, I'll bring in my Kindergarten picture for him to look at.

A friend of mine, Yaddi, sent me a message earlier in the day asking if I could train her. I told her where the gym was and the price of attending the gym. I was hoping she would come in last night to look around, but she didn't come in. Yaddi and I met when we were trying out for the roller derby three years ago.

At the end of the night, only Alan and I were left in the gym. This has been a really big lull period in the gym. The fall session begins in a couple of weeks. Maybe attendance will pick up then.

Miss Laila Silences Her Critics

People have often disregarded Laila Ali, but she looks like the real deal here, in a sparring match against a guy. . .

The Guys Put In Work

Jamil sparred with Johnny last night. He was hit on the arm, and it kept hurting and wouldn't stop. I figured he might have over-extended a punch, as well. "Alternate between putting ice on it and putting heat on it," I told him. I hope it doesn't get worse.

Carlos, the workhorse, sparred with all of the guys including Ralphie, who is real slick in the ring. "You can spar with whoever is left," Alan told me. No other women showed up last night.

While I was watching Carlos and Ralphie, I felt a light tapping on my back. I turned around and looked down to see Carlos' little boy, Justin. "Tomorrow is the first day of school for me. I'm going to Kindergarten," he smiled. "You'll like Kindergarten," I smiled back. I can't remember my first day of Head Start, but I still remember the first day I was in Kindergarten. I met a girl, Clintonia, who had her head down on the desk. The teacher, Miss Sheffield, introduced us. "I don't like being here!" she told me. I was a little taken aback because I was excited to be there. I had been bugging Ma about wanting to go to school ever since I was two years old. Clintonia and I also attended first and second grade together. We're still friends today. She became a grade school teacher.

"You'll learn your colors, your numbers, and your letters," I told Justin. "I'll learn how to write my name," he said. "Do you know how to read?" I asked him. He shook his head. For a second, I thought that was odd that a five-year-old doesn't know how to read, but that's normal. Just because I knew how to read when I was three, doesn't mean every kid should know how that early.

Alan was already missing Matthew, whom he took to military school last week. He was assured by the people there that his son will be taken care of, but there was still the "empty nest" thing going on. From what he told me, the military school is very dedicated to building up young men.

"Looks like all of the guys are tired out," Alan grinned after Carlos and Ralphie came out of the ring. "That's okay. I'm not going to make them spar with me," I laughed. The coach talked to Carlos about getting a fight at Simons Park next Friday. "Isn't that Johnny Heard's gym?" Alan asked, and I nodded. Mr. Heard was a professional boxer. I was listening to an interview Heard gave back in 2004, around the time of the Golden Gloves Finals for that year. "Boxing is all about money these days. You don't see guys doing slipping, etc., they just want to get in there and knock each other's heads off," Heard told the reporter. That is true to an extent, even though there are still boxers who prize technique. That appears to be the main fault with MMA, where the competitors just want to take someone out as quick as possible.

Vintage Knockout

I always appreciate a good knockout. Not necessarily on me (smile), but a beautifully executed one is a thing of art. Here's Vonda Ward and Ann Wolfe.

No Boxing Wednesday

Alan had to take his son to military school, so he told me he wouldn't be in on Wednesday. It appeared he forgot to let staff know that it was okay to open the gym that night if I came in. Rob, BK and Carol had no go-ahead from Mary to do so. Yeah, most of the staff knows me, and I've been in the boxing program for nearly eight years. I'm a Chicago Park District volunteer and a USA Amateur Boxing coach. But I never want to staff to get in trouble for opening up the gym when they didn't have permission to do that. Carlos, Justin, and Jamil showed up, but left a little while later when they learned the gym was closed for the evening. I hung around and talked to Rob for about a half-hour before I went back home.

Save on boxing equipment and gloves.

I was hitting the bigger speed bag on Monday, and it's very raggedy. It is still in decent shape to use, but the outside is falling apart. I never know which bag is going to be up there when I come in -- that bag or the smaller bag. Barry probably changes it when the kids are in on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The smaller speed bag is easier to hit, but the bigger bag's advantage is that it makes one work more.

Before Comcast decided to move ESPN Classic so that those with the basic digital package -- like me -- can't see it anymore, I watched some of "Iron" Mike Tyson's matches. The announcer made a comment about Tyson coming to the ring wearing no socks with his boxing shoes. I've done that a few times when I forgot to wear socks, usually during the summers. I guess the sweat from one's feet would do some damage to the shoes after awhile in terms of the moisture.

Moving With Caution

Ieisha and I sparred last night for the first time in weeks. She naturally hits hard, and remembering the beating I took the last time, I proceeded carefully. Occasionally, I have bursts of energy while at the gym. Last night was one of those times. I felt light on my feet as I bounced around the canvas during the first round. I was chasing Ieisha around the ring too much, however. She turned away from me at one point as she was moving away. I landed an illegal punch -- by accident -- on her lower back.

One of her left hooks nearly took me out. For a moment, I thought I was going to collapse onto the canvas. After taking a few deep breaths, I kept going. Ieisha also got me good with a hard body punch to the stomach.

Alan told me that I would get a couple of good punches in, then I would back up. Since Ieisha is good at fighting on the outside, my actions would make it easy for her to clock me. I also have a bad habit of closing my eyes when a punch comes towards me. I've been trying to break that habit for eight years now.

It was a quiet night in the gym. Carlos and Justin, E and Markel, Jamil, and Ralphie were in attendance. Everything was copacetic until the end of the evening. A guy rushed into the gym, going on about how another guy was harassing him. He wanted help. "I ain't trying to get caught up in nothing," he kept saying. The second guy shows up, demanding that the first guy return a pair of shorts he lent him to wear. The two of them had been playing basketball in one of the other gyms.

The first guy insisted that the shorts were a gift. Despite of Alan offering the guy sweatpants that were laying around on the clothes rack in the gym, the first guy wouldn't back down. The second guy was talking about beating the first guy down. The first guy barked about the second guy and others always picking on him. As the argument continued, I got the feeling that the first guy wasn't wrapped too tight. Ralphie also tried to be a voice of reason, but it was a no go. Finally, Alan threw his hands up and hustled both guys out of the boxing gym. BK also made sure they got out of the building. BK was muttering under his breath about their attitudes.

My question is this: why did the first guy tried to get other people caught up in his drama? In my opinion, it was a petty dispute, certainly not worth going to war over. Alan and I encountered the second guy and a few of his friends when we got to Alan's car. Alan basically asked them something along the lines of, "is that really worth fighting about?" The second guy's friends seemed ambivalent, but the second guy was still hot about the whole thing. "I'll see that guy again," he grumbled. Alan and I shook our heads and headed home.

Getting The Uppercut In

Leon, Ralphie and Carlos did a bit of interval training on Wednesday. The drill went like this: one person hits the heavy bag for 30 seconds while another person holds it. Then the person holding the bag hits the bag for 30 seconds while the next person holds it, and so forth.

I sparred with Carlos again earlier that evening, and managed to make it through two rounds. I caught him a couple of times with uppercuts. "Nice," I heard Alan say from the sidelines. For the longest time, I have been trying to figure out how to get in uppercuts on opponents. As short as I am, it's not easy. Carlos likes to do a lot of bobbing and weaving. One of the times he ducked down is when I got him with a left uppercut.

Alan told Carlos that he was ready for a match, and he told him about a Park District boxing show that takes place next Thursday. Carlos works various shifts at his job, but he thought he'd be able to attend. "I have to talk it over with my wife before I say yes," he announced. "She's afraid of you being hurt," I said, and he agreed. He also talked about the possibility of being in next year's Golden Gloves. Since he's had no previous fights, Carlos would be classified as a novice in that competition.

Carlos told me that his son Justin would like to box, but his wife nixed the idea. He'll put Justin in basketball instead, when the boy turns six years old. Moms either are for their kids boxing or against it. There seems to be no middle ground when it comes to that. The ones who are supportive of it appear to be really into it when they show up at the matches.

The following day, I was on my way to help Pastor and Virginia clean and move some things up to their new apartment when I spotted Barry in the alley. Barry was working; he's with Streets and Sanitation. He was chatting with a neighbor of mine who lives on the other side of the alley. For several years now, I've been exchanging pleasantries with that particular neighbor, but I never knew his name. After I greeted them both, Barry told the neighbor, "Hillari is one of the boxers at the gym."

My neighbor smiled and said, "I figured that she was." To my surprise, I found out that he's Gabe's dad. His name is David. "I was looking for Gabe this summer," I told him. Gabe was going to college out of state, but he would stop in the gym several times during the summers. "He's going to law school downtown now," David said. I've always thought that David was a good-looking silver fox. Now I see where Gabe gets his good looks from.

He Keeps Going and Going. . .

When I got to the gym, only Alan and a colleague of his, Patty, were inside. "Where is everybody?" I asked. "Maybe the rain is keeping them away," Alan supposed. It was about twenty minutes before anyone else got there. Ricky's sons arrived first.

Carlos sparred with both of Ricky's sons. Ricky had a pair of gloves on. "Are you going into the ring?" I smiled. "Oh, no! I'm perfectly willing to be the parent who encourages the kids to participate," he laughed. The boys didn't do bad at all against Carlos.

It was my turn to step into the ring with Carlos. He and I had not sparred before. Carlos didn't hit as hard as he could have, but then, I wasn't hitting him hard, either. He willingly gave me some openings to get punches in, but by the middle of the second round, I was moving like an old turtle. Carlos was light on his feet, which was amazing, considering he had just gone several rounds with Ricky's sons. Carlos is like the Energizer Bunny whenever he's in the ring.

Carlos' son Justin gave both his dad and I curious looks when we came out of the ring. He said something like, "Dad, you fought the girl?" The little guy is funny to me.

It seems that I have fewer hand wraps than I did before. Some of them were given away -- I gave Jamil a pair, and I think I gave either Sadiq or JJ a pair awhile ago. I have a black pair that Country (Mike) gave me a couple of years ago, a couple of red wraps, and some blue wraps. The blue wraps are mismatched. One is from Ringside and I think the other is Everlast. Who knows how I misplaced the hand wraps. The blue ones are for kids's and women's hands, and they are shorter.

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I prefer the longer wraps because of the extra padding -- and protection -- they give my hands. There are many ways to wrap the hands to sort of cut down on injuries (but not completely). As a middle-aged person, plus being a writer and currently working as a church secretary, I have to be particularly careful about my hands.

It's The Shoes

I had ran into Barry on Tuesday afternoon as I was coming home from work. He was very concerned about Deo and his injury. I told him what Deo had said Monday about his progress. "I'm thinking of having a boxing class for 18 to 21 year olds," Barry said. That might be a good idea. Sometimes, I sense that the people in that age group may feel a little out of place training with old folks like myself. But then, I might be wrong.

Once again, I only lasted one round on Wednesday with Oscar during sparring. My stamina is way down, and I can't blame it all on age. Ieisha did better while she was in the ring with Jamil. Carlos sparred with Alan again, and he kept going like the Energizer bunny.

It's good that women's boxing will be in the 2012 Olympics. It's not so good that only three weight classes are allowed for the women. One of the men's weight classes were dropped to make room. Well, I guess having three weight classes is better than women not being allowed to box at all in that competition. Hopefully in 2016, the female boxers will be included more.

My boxing shoes have to be almost two years old. I noticed they're holding up pretty well. The last pair was made of faux leather. I'm very hard on shoes, so they wore out quickly. I've only worn my current pair outside once on Halloween. I was still working at the non-profit agency, and I dressed in my boxing shorts and jersey for the occasion. Not wanting to take the time to change back into my other clothes to go to lunch, I went outside as is. A lot of curious looks came my way on the Evanston streets that day.

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Ieisha pointed to a chest protector near the headgear. After Alan and Carlos sparred, she suggested that maybe Alan should wear the protector. "You're still able to feel those punches if someone hits hard. It's just like headgear -- it only offers so much protection," Alan explained. My chest protector is somewhere at home. It's somewhat of a pain to put on. But there have been times that I've wished I had it on during sparring.

Deo's Progress

It was a surprise when Deo walked into the gym last night. I assumed he'd be out for awhile due to his eye injury. Deo explained to Alan and I that his sight is still blurry in his left eye. When Leon hit him, the muscle around that eye got caught up in the bone fracture. Doctors were able to move the muscle back in place, but Deo has to be careful for awhile. He's still under a doctor's care. Deo hung around for awhile to talk to Alan, who also experienced a bad eye injury years ago.

Carlos sparred with Alan. The oppressive heat in the gym was bothering me, so I did one round on the uppercut bag, then I watched the guys. I reminded Carlos to keep his hands up. Alan likes overhand rights, and he tagged Carlos a few times with them. Carlos improves each time he spars. Regardless of what he gets hit with, he keeps coming forward. He tends to back away straight from his opponents, however, and I also reminded him to be mindful of that.

Upon looking at the class roster, Alan noted, "Ieisha hasn't been in for awhile." The other women have not been around, either. Some of that could be blamed on the weather. It's been too hot outside, and unfortunately, there's no air conditioning in the gym.

One of the last times I sparred, my mouthpiece became very loose in my mouth. Teddy Atlas of ESPN's "Friday Night Fights" grumbled once during a match when a boxer's mouthpiece kept flying out onto the canvas. He stated that there's no reason -- or excuse -- for a mouthpiece to keep slipping out. It was a sure sign that it's not fitted properly. I've had both of my mouthpieces for several years. Maybe it's time to change them.

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Since I've had my mouthpieces, I've had five of my teeth removed: all four wisdom teeth, and another tooth in the back that was too bad to save. I'm guessing that when dental extractions have been done, a boxer should be fitted for a new mouthpiece. I would love to get one professionally done by a dentist, but the cost is steep. Most of the ones that can be brought from boxing equipment companies are very good, however.

Back To Sparring

Oscar and I sparred last night, and he has become greatly improved. He got me with many combinations. I got winded early, and it showed. Remember, I hadn't been sparring for awhile, not since Ieisha scored a TKO on me about a month ago. My mouthpiece was choking me. Alan ran water over it, and he was going to put it back in, but I declined it. I have to get used to wearing it again. "Keep your mouth closed," Alan told me.

I was popped in the mouth, and I tasted blood. After the two rounds were done, I asked Alan if I was bleeding, and he didn't see any red. This morning, I noticed a small cut inside my lower lip. That's the second time I've been cut open in the ring.

My eyes looked puffy too. Upon closer inspection, it looked more like signs of aging, a series of wrinkles/crows' feet forming. That was how Dad looked around the eyes the older he became. Today would have been his 76th birthday. I can still hear him laughing when he learned that I box.

I learned that Alan is about 10 years older than I. I remembered that Steve, the former coach, was about 12 years younger than me. I've now had the pleasure of getting boxing wisdom from both an older man and a younger man.

Alan sparred with the younger of his cousin Ricky's sons last night. I was relieved to see that he wore his headgear. I had just come off of sparring with Oscar, so I sat on one of the stools ringside to watch. Alan popped the kid a bit hard in the face. "I'm sorry!" he told him. "What are you trying to do, Alan? Kill him?" I joked. Later, Alan asked me, "Was I hitting him very hard?" "No, just that one time you caught him," I assured him. "I'm an old man, so I can't out slick guys in the ring anymore. I have to rely on my hands to keep them off of me," he explained.

I've been thinking about having a heavy bag in the house for some time. I have a plastic, inflatable bag that I brought from Everlast. It's okay, but it reminds me of that pop-up clown bop bag I had when I was a little girl. I can't hang one up in the apartment, but I could get a stand alone one, like a Cobra bag. If I had a heavy bag, I could also go back to practicing my martial arts moves. It's been a while since I've been in a martial arts class, but I still remember the techniques. Muscle memory is a beautiful thing.

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"You Do What?"

This past weekend, I attended my high school class reunion. The classes of 1978 and 1979 celebrated together (I'm part of the latter class). People were asking each other what do they do for a living now. "I'm a church secretary by day, and an assistant boxing coach at night", I told Dennis, one of my former classmates. His eyes lit up, and he laughed. "That's how we Whitney Young High School students are -- full of surprises!" he said. Then we talked about how good of a fighter Manny Pacquiao is.

Others at my reunion had similar reactions when I told them. Dorian, andother former classmate, had taken martial arts for a time. Her youngest son now teaches it. "I used to spar, but I got hit in the stomach once and that was it," she told me. I told her and several others about being knocked out in the gym a few weeks ago by Ieisha. The alumni cringed. "Wow, you are something else," someone told me.

Last night in the gym, I told Leon about the damage he'd done to Deo. Alan told me that Deo had his eye operation, and was doing fine. "You're kidding me," Leon said. "I feel so bad. I didn't think I hit him that hard." I thought the same way when I knocked out Maggie, but I underestimated my own strength.

Alan mentioned a bout to Leon that is taking place out in Mundeline. I overheard Leon say that he had no boxing gloves. I thought about a pair that I have at home, but I think they are more suited to martial arts than boxing. I brought them while I was still attending Degerberg Martial Arts Academy.

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Once again I teased little Justin about him and I sparring. He gave me a funny look as he played with his Spiderman action figures. "You must be thinking, 'this woman is crazy,' " I told him. He smiled at me. His father, Carlos, sparred with Alan. I was worried when Alan took a few hits; he was not wearing headgear. Carlos and Alan kept locking each other up. I was watching on the sidelines, calling out, "Break!" whenever they did.

Carlos also sparred with Ralphie. During the last 30 seconds of the last round they were in the ring, Ralphie let loose with some fast combinations. He had Carlos up against the ropes a few times while doing that.

Jamil is getting better in the ring. He was sparring with Oscar, who kept his head down too much. I wish I had paid more attention in my high school Spanish classes. Oscar doesn't speak a lot of English. It would be nice if I could help Alan relay instructions to him. But Ralphie, Carlos and Al help with that when they are around.

Fallout After The Punch

Mary was very concerned about Deo (not Deon, as I wrote on Monday) being hurt in the gym. She asked Alan to come down the hall to talk with him about it. They were gone for a long time, and I feared that Alan might get into trouble because of it. Deo is 19 years old, about 6 feet tall, and thin. Leon is 36 years old, 6'5, and is easily over 250 solid pounds.

Johnny was in the hallway jumping rope, and Ieisha was walking towards us, having just arrived at the field house. Johnny asked if Deo was okay. "Leon's punch broke Deo's eye socket. He has to have surgery next week," I told him. "No fucking way!" Johnny exclaimed. When Ieisha heard this she said, "I was thinking about not sparring today. Now I know I don't want to spar today." As my left hand is still acting funny, I wasn't hot on sparring either last night.

Mary put the hammer down: no one can work out and/or spar in the gym unless they have paid to be there. Alan wanted to make exceptions for people like Willie and JJ, who come in from time to time, but Mary would not budge. I told him, "Mary used to get on Steve about that all the time." I understand Mary's position. It's a liability issue. Leon is not officially signed up to train at Loyola Park. I also understand Alan's stance. It seemed to be a understanding that people who train at Chicago Park District boxing gyms could go train at other gyms in the Park District system without paying a fee. That would also go for boxing officials like Gary and Yale, for example. Even though it has happened, I'm assuming that it is not looked upon favorably by Park District administrators.

Willie remembered Leon trying to goad him into sparring one of the last times he was there. "I guess Leon made it bad for everyone else. Now I've got to come up with the fee," he said. Alan had to tell his cousin Ricky to sign up his sons, and he also told Art, a new guy, that he had to pay. "Mary's the boss, so I have to go along with it," Alan sighed.

Taking It To The Eye

I teased little Justin last night. He came in again with his father, Carlos. "You and I are going to spar on Wednesday," I told him. Justin gave me an amused look, and his dad laughed. Willie did a workout last night and noticed E's son. "Hillari, didn't you say that he was the one who knocked you out?" he winked. E's son gave us both a confused look as we giggled.

E thought he had taken a hit to his eye during sparring. I was working out on the uppercut bag while he was in the ring. He rested in the corner closed to where I was during the time out. "Is my eye swollen and red?" he asked. "No, not at the moment," I answered. His son stood next to Alan on the other side, helpfully holding up his dad's water bottle.

Alan's cousin, Ricky, came in with his two sons -- one 20-years old and the other 17-years-old. The sons worked out. "I saw your blog," Ricky smiled. More and more people that come into the gym tell me that.

Ieisha was going to ask me about sparring until she saw me rubbing my left hand. It doesn't hurt as much as it has been, but it still does, depending on how I move it. I was going to do uppercuts on the teardrop bag, but Ieisha suggested that I not do that. "I'm older and that's why it's taking me longer to heal," I said. "They say that 40-something is the new 30," she said. "Can't prove that by me," I grinned. Alan also asked me about sparring. When I told him about the continuing pain in my hand, he said something that indicated he found my claim dubious. "I don't want to get knocked out before I go to my high school reunion," I joked. I can imagine showing up with a black eye and having my former classmates thinking, "Who knew she was that crazy when we were all in school together?"

Deon (I think I have his name right) and Leon sparred. Alan kept warning Leon not to go so hard. I was working on the heavy bag that's closest to the ring, partially paying attention to the action. Several people gasped, and I turned to see Deon fall to the canvas. Leon had hit him in his left eye. Alan instructed Deon to remain laying down, and he did for several minutes. When he finally arose, Deon was a little unsteady on his feet. He said that his vision was blurry in that eye. I overheard Alan admonishing Leon about his heavy punching.

Alan ended up driving Deon to the hospital. I left a message for Barry to say that Deon left his bike in the gym -- he didn't have a bike lock, so that was the best place to leave it. I hope his eye is okay.

Protect The Hands

Ieisha asked me about sparring last night, and I turned it down. My left hand is still sore. Perhaps next week, it'll be okay to punch again. I just want to make sure. A boxer's hands are their most important weapons. If they're not functional, then getting into the ring is not a good idea.

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Carlos sparred with Leon. While they were in the ring, Carlos' son Justin was recording the action with a little Nintendo gizmo. I didn't know such a thing existed; see, I learn something new every day. Leon popped Carlos good while he was up against the ropes. At the end of a round, Carlos was kneeling in a corner.

There another new guy in class who's name I haven't learned yet. He sparred with Ieisha instead of me. She was getting the best of him early in the game. A few left jabs got him square in the face. But then, the tide changed. Ieisha got tired, and her opponent had better wind. He backed her into the corners more than once. "He was trying to knock me out," she said afterwards.

I was thinking that while my late dad did not know how to box, he did know how to fight. There are numerous stories around about Dad putting beat downs on people. Unfortunately, he had a bad temper, and it didn't take much to set him off. A few months before he passed away, he was talking about jumping on someone whom he felt disrespected him. The old man was in the hospital at the time. "All you are going to do is lay in that bed and rest," I told him. His habit of putting his hands on people influenced my boxing to an extent. But, fortunately, I learned a long time ago that always being on war alert is not a good thing.

Monday's Coach

Everyone was hanging around in the hall outside of the gym on Monday, wondering where Alan was. "He's probably running late," I answered. Then I remembered he said he wasn't going to be in that evening. I found Carol and BK so they could open up the gym.

Two new people, a man and a woman, were there. The man looked familiar to me. He might have signed up for the gym in the past and not stuck around for too long. The woman's name was Shanice, I believe. I spent time showing them the one-two combination (left jab, right cross) and how to stand.

I didn't get much of a workout in, partially because I was lazy, partially because I was coaching people, and partially because I was watching the room. Three other people roamed in, two guys and a girl who looked like they were in their late teens/early twenties. The taller of the two guys asked if he could hit the bags. It's annoying when people walk in and assume they are entitled to play around just because the door is open. However, I was polite as I explained they had to pay to play. Fortunately, they strolled back out after a few moments.

Carlos brought his little boy, Justin, in with him. Justin got bored, as five-year-olds will do when asked to sit and stay still for long periods of time. He had a couple of action figures to play with, but Justin kept getting up and down. "Which superheroes are those?" I asked him. "One is black Spiderman, and the other is red Spiderman," he answered. "Do you read the comic books?" I said to him. "Yeah, sometimes," Justin replied. "I used to read Spiderman comic books and watch the cartoon when I was little," I informed him. Justin gave me a curious look. "Spiderman was around when you were little?" he inquired. "Spiderman first came out when I was a little girl," I smiled. I didn't tell him that the character was created in 1962. Little kids cannot wrap their minds around the concept of decades. It's kind of funny, actually, about small kids and their concept of time. Years ago, another five-year-old told me that I was old. I was fourteen years old at the time.