Fighting and Faith

After finally getting my taxes done late this afternoon, I took a long walk from Howard Street up to the gym.  Alan was suited up, but I ended up sparring again with Kenny.  Kenny gave me some extremely good pointers after we did a couple of rounds.  First of all, I have a bad habit of not aiming my jab at someone's face.  Kenny was easily able to avoid it by slipping the jab and countering with a right.  I don't move my head (something that Alan also has pointed out before), and that makes me an easy target. 

"You have good body shots.  You know how to box, Hillari. You hit very hard for a female.  That's why I was moving out of the way a lot.  I got hit with one of your body shots, and I was like (expletive deleted)!" Kenny said.  Alan agreed with him.  Kenny continued,  "Since you're short, you should hit from angles."  He asked why I didn't throw hooks.  "I try, but I never seem to be close enough to get any off," I answered.  "You can throw them either close up or from a wide angle", he said, showing me how its done.  We had gotten on the black heavy bag, and Kenny asked me to show him how I throw the hooks.  "That's good!  Why don't you use that?  You should use that!" Kenny exclaimed.

Greg, who hadn't been at the gym for a long time, came in to do a light work out with two of his friends, Robert and another new guy who's name I didn't get, but I will the next time I see him.  Robert and the other new guy plan to take their physical exam with the police department.  They've already taken the written exam.  Other guys present were Derek, Frank, Ray, and Colonel.  Oscar works on Wednesdays, so he's not able to come in on those days. 

Robin did not come in, but Erica and Sarah did.  I forgot to mention to Alan that Sarah has sparred before.  She was another person whose long arms I could not figure out how to get around.  However, with the advice from Kenny, I may now have an edge. 

Alan had told Josh a few weeks ago as we were leaving the field house, "Hillari's knows about the faith", in response to a joke Josh made. . .something about making me Jewish.  Alan and I had another interesting conversation about religion tonight after the gym let out.

It was prompted by me saying, "Pastor Roger's going to talk about me."  "Why?" Alan queried.  "I was talking about perhaps becoming ordained as a wedding officiant.  I was thinking about picking up some extra funds presiding over weddings.  Pastor's conservative.  . .doesn't believe women should be pastors," I answered.  I had seen some churches online that would be willing to ordain people for free.  I can also see Pastor Roger admonishing me if I show up at church with a ordination certificate.  I had joked with the Pastor earlier about preparing a sermon to preach at my church.  As usual, Pastor Roger gave me a look that said, "This chick is nutty." Alan and I hadn't talked about religion in awhile, and I missed those conversations.  I always learn something else about Judaism that I did not know before. I tell Pastor about those conversations from time to time.  Alan once joked and said, "He might think I'm trying to convert you!"

Spring Newbies and Old Faces

While waiting for Alan to come in, several of us were out in the hallway at Loyola Park, including the new people who showed up for the first day of the spring session.  One of the women, Erica, said that her boyfriend had came to the gym in the past.  He told her that it was alright.  It didn't occur to me to ask who her boyfriend was.  Later on, Matthieu, a Frenchman who used to work out there, came in.  "I'm here to see her," he said, pointing at Erica.  "Oh, you're the boyfriend she was talking about!" I exclaimed.  He has signed up again, and will be in soon.

Robin, another new person who looked to be closer to mine and Alan's age, came in.  "I just want to get in shape.  I think it's a good idea to learn how to throw a punch.  If someone messes with me, I'd like to not fight like a girl.  You know, with the arms flaying in the air," she said.  Neither Erica nor Robin were keen on sparring.

A couple of faces from the past were in the place:  Tommy and Sarah, both of whom used to come in when Steve was the coach.  Sarah used to have long brown hair; she's cut it short.  Tommy's still trying to manage his schedule so he can come back to the gym.   Both he and Sarah asked about JJ, whom I haven't seen in awhile.  "I came in and recognized no one except you," Sarah grinned. 

Kenny and I sparred, and he is quick.  I did catch him once with an overhand right.  That was after I tried to throw a right and slipped and fell to the canvas.  That has been happening too often when I spar.  It makes me feel like the overly clumsy little girl I once was (and I have the scars to prove that).  After our two rounds, he told me he figured I would use that punch sooner or later, because he always notices that I practice throwing it. "You throw that punch well," he said.  He worked with Oscar, Jacob, and another new guy, Derek, on a defensive drill.  They had to block against the one-two-three (jab, right, left hook). 

The place was packed.  I overheard Jacob and Hector joking about how now they would have to take numbers and wait in lines to use the bags and shadow box in the mirrors.  Hector was sparring with Oscar, I believe, when one of his contact lenses slipped and went further up into his left eye.  Eventually, it came back to where it should be, and I was glad. 

My middle and lower back feels a little sore now.  Sigh. . .I think a lot of that is due to how I sleep at night.  I try to sleep on my back, but I tend to favor sleeping on my right side.  Throughout the night, I'm in all kinds of crazy positions, and then here lately, I've been rolling out of the bed onto the floor.  Maybe I'm fighting opponents in my sleep?

Boxing's Problems In My Opinion

I was reading an article in The Ring about a bit of feuding between Top Rank Promotions and Golden Boy Promotions involving the possibility of a fight between J.C. Chavez Jr. and Miguel Cotto.  The writer of the article, Ivan Goldman, stated, ". . .feuds are dumb.  And they hurt business."  He's right.  More dissension is not needed in boxing.  Instead, many improvements are needed:

1.  A national boxing commission, the idea of which has been brought up by ESPN boxing analyst Teddy Atlas and Sen. John McCain many times.  It would cut down on professional boxers who shouldn't be fighting for various reasons including major health issues and loaded hand wraps, for example, attempting to get their licenses reinstated by commissions in different states whom they think will help their cause.  If everyone is on the same page concerning the rules, then the sport is safer and fair for everyone.

2.  One definite champ for each category.  There was a time in boxing history when this was the case.  Somewhere down the line, all the alphabet sanctioning bodies (as The Ring magazine refers to them) got involved.  So we have several heavyweight champions, several middleweight champions, and so on.  A few years ago, I had a guy tell me that was why he didn't the follow the sport any more; it was too confusing to keep up with which boxer was at the top.

3.  Follow the lead of Cuba and other countries where boxing is regarded as a top-tier sport.  Cuba has long been known as having an excellent boxing program that trains up world class fighters.  I hear people complain that there are no major American heavyweight boxers, and most of the ones now are from the Ukraine and Russia.  Obviously those countries still have a major respect for pugilism.  Boxing used to have that kind of respect in the good ol' USA, but when was the last time you heard a major boxing match be the lead story on the sports segment of local or national newscasts?  Every once in awhile, I hear of some college that has a boxing program as part of their overall sports program, but that's rare.  I have yet to see the sport included in the physical fitness programs in grade and high schools (while the football, basketball, and soccer teams get top billing). Private gyms and city-run recreation centers offer boxing, but often times, the young people who really want and need to get to them can't afford to pay the gym fees. 

4.  Stop ignoring and dismissing the presence of women fighters, managers, promoters and trainers.  I've mentioned on this blog before that the road to being a professional female boxer is not smooth.  Males often start training younger and have more avenues to get experience.  Before the boxing analysts start complaining about the quality of some the female boxers they see, they need to think about that.  The boxing magazines rarely mention anything about female boxers, managers, promoters and trainers, and they certainly aren't doing full-blown articles about them.  Despite the fact that there are plenty of female boxers -- both amateurs and professionals -- some still treat the women as jokes, or worst yet, insinuate that they should stay in their place, wherever the hell that is.  A key to seeing that boxing survives is to acknowledge and celebrate everybody in it.  The "old boys club" mentality is so 20th century.

5.  Put boxing back on the TV networks.  Hey, if I'm not able to pay my cable bill for any reason, then I don't get to see any boxing matches on TV.  Don't get me started on those high pay-per-view fees for some of the bigger matches.  I listen to those older than me talk about boxing matches regularly aired on the major television networks (ABC, NBC, CBS) back in the day, and I envy them.    There has been efforts to have the major matches shown in movie theaters (Mayweather v. Mosley, for example), but not every movie house is -- or will -- show the fights.  That could be a reason why the audience for boxing has shrunk over the decades because the fights are not accessible to everyone who want to see them. Personally, I can do without the constant football/baseball/basketball go-round on the TV networks.

Round Two For Alan and I

Earlier in the day, I saw Ralphie on Lawrence Avenue.  I couldn't call to him because I was on the bus.  A few stops later, Boban got on and recognized me.  "I heard you have a fight coming up," I told him.  "Yeah, this Friday.  I'm going up to the gym right now," he said.  I wish I could see his fight, but money is tight right now.

The heat must be off at the field house.  It was cold in the gym to me until I started moving around.  I was the first one in, followed by Alan.  Alan complained that his right shoulder didn't feel right.  Colonel, who arrived next, had told him on Monday that the rotator cuff might be torn.  Tonight, he suggested that Alan get an MRI done.  Alan's not sure how he might have been injured.

It didn't stop him from sparring, however.  First, he was in the ring with Jacob, who's been improving each time he comes into the gym.  They did a couple of rounds, and then I got in with him.  I threw a left jab, and Alan caught it between his gloves, then fired back with a right.  That was a new move on me.  When I was close enough, I got body shots and some hooks in.  For the most part, I was on the receiving end -- once again -- of some full shots to the face and head.  I asked Alan about the sneaky catch of my jab after we were done, and he showed it to me again. I'll have to remember it.  "Should I bother to bob and weave at all when I'm fighting someone taller?" I asked.  "You have to fight on the inside because you can't fight someone with a reach on the outside.  You have to be always on the attack, so yes, bobbing and weaving is very beneficial," Alan told me.

I practiced bobbing and weaving as much as I could before my knees started protesting.  It was amazing that I was able to function at all, considering that I only had one hour of sleep.  Yesterday afternoon, I fell asleep around 4:00 PM, intending to get up after an hour or so.  The clock read 11:40 PM when I finally woke up.  At first, I was mad because I thought I missed the latest episode of "Lights Out", but fortunately, it was airing again at midnight.  Couldn't go to sleep after that, so I was up until 6:00 AM.  The scenario reminded me of my paternal grandmother, who napped a lot during the day.  I would be at her house and find her up, looking out of the window at two or three in the morning.  "Are you okay?" I'd ask, thinking she was ill.  "Nope, I just couldn't sleep," she'd answer.  My late dad once commented that she was always up at odd hours of the night.  It was probably due to taking siestas earlier in the day.  I now seem to be doing the same thing she was.

Leon, shown in the above picture in the dark shirt, came in with a female neighbor of his.  Leon sparred for a couple of rounds with Jacob.  His neighbor occupied herself by punching and kicking the heavy bags.

Jacob re-hydrates himself in this picture, after his sparring session with Leon.

In this picture, Colonel (on the left) and Ray have a conversation.  Ray asked me if I would help him with technique on the speed bag the next he came in.  He was good on it at one time, but has fallen out of practice.  I'll be happy to help him out.

"I'll go to bed as soon as I get home," I thought to myself.  Yeah, right.  I forgot that I had to eat something, and of course, watch some late night TV.  But I must get at least six hours of sleep tonight or I'll really be dragging tomorrow.

All Men and One Woman

"So this is the limbo period between sessions?" Alan asked.  The winter session ended last week; the spring session begins this upcoming Monday.  Professor, Jacob, and Colonel came in.  Also, a friend of Professor's, Ray, came by.

Jacob and Professor sparred.  Jacob commented that Professor got in a good shot to his mouth.  Later, Professor worked the pads with Jacob and also showed him how to move around the ring.  Colonel said that his arthritis was bothering him ("It sucks to get old," he kept saying) so he begged off of sparring, opting to shadow box in the mirrors instead.

Alan and I sparred, and as usual, he caught me right in the face with a punch.  He stopped for a moment, and rolled his eyes.  He didn't mean to hit me like that.  "Are you okay?" he asked.  "Yeah," I said, figuring it was good that I was still on my feet and conscious.  I was better at giving body shots this time around.  It's always hard to connect with Alan's face or head. "You need to spar with one of these younger guys who are slick in their movements. I can't move like that anymore," he said after we completed two rounds. Like Colonel, I was fighting the effects of arthritis, too.  My knees were crying a little. "Why do you stop after you get someone in the corner?" Alan asked. "I always feel like that I'm crowding them too much so that I can't effectively get any punches off," I answered.  Alan said that I should stay on opponents once I get them backed into a corner.

It appears that I'm stiff more often these days and for longer periods of time. My back was almost as stiff as my knees as I stretched out before getting into the workout. I could grumble that I'm too young to have problems moving around. But based on my age, and the fact I've put a lot of punishment on myself (ice skating, roller skating, in-line skating, and martial arts before boxing came along), I don't have much of an argument. 

The Middle Aged Folks Spar Again

It's the last week of the winter session, and the gym was quiet Monday night.  Alan, Jacob, Professor, myself, and Josh (Josh showed up the last 15 minutes of the evening).  Jacob and Alan sparred, and I called out instructions to Jacob.  "Throw that right all the way out," I told him, as I saw Alan winding up to throw an overhand right.  Alan got Jacob in the side of his face with a right at one point, and I gasped.  "I just slapped at him," Alan said.  Jacob got in a few good shots to Alan's middle, and a few to his head.

Alan and I sparred; it was the first time I sparred in two months.  I fell at one point, partially because I tripped over my own feet, and partially because Alan threw a good punch.  He had to help me up off of the canvas.  I threw a few hard punches during the first round, and Alan joked, "So. . .you want a piece of me?"  I took some more punches to my eyes and face before the sparring session ended after the second round.  "That's enough for your first time back," Alan said.  My knees were fine; I had gone to the doctor for a check-up earlier in the afternoon.  The doctor told me since I wasn't feeling any more major pain from January's car accident, there probably wasn't a need to have X-rays done.

Professor worked with Jacob on the pads, helping him throw his right hand better, as well as his hooks.  Josh walked in while they were doing that.  He wanted me to hold pads for him.  "Professor's got his on.  I'm tired.  I just got out of the ring with Alan," I told Josh.  Josh didn't ask Professor for time on the pads, however.  He did ask him to check his form on the bag, and Alan watched as well.  "I let you come in and just burn yourself out on the bag because you come in so late," Alan told Josh.  "That's fine for a workout, but if you want to learn the punches, you have to come in earlier, take your time, and slow down on the bags."

Feeling Old On Monday

Colonel was complaining about his hip.  It'll have to be replaced eventually, and he's not looking forward to it.  He told me about the long recovery he endured when he had the last one replaced.  I believed him.  Yet, he's a tough guy.  I heard him tell Alan "push me, even if I complain about the hip". 

I certainly felt like an old woman today.  I've been feeling like that most days for the past few weeks.  I've been fine in the morning, but dragging by the time afternoon rolls around.  I usually walk home from my job at church.  Halfway to the house, I'm plodding along as if I'm walking in mud.  Once I get home, I'm ready to go to sleep, and I often have a hard time keeping my eyes open.  If I do take a nap, I'm up most of the night.  Today in the mail was an advertisement for a book to help women who are going through perimenopause like myself.  It talked about fatigue, insomnia, and stubborn pounds not wanting to go.  "Hmm. . .sounds just like what I've been experiencing," I thought to myself.  The other night, I woke up to find my T-shirt was drenched in sweat.  Neither the radiators nor the space heater was on, and I was sleeping under a heat blanket that was not turned on.  I concluded that I had experienced night sweats.  It might be time to look harder into some herbal remedies to soothe some of the change-of-life symptoms.

Alan asked me if I wanted to spar, and I told him, "On Wednesday."  He sparred with Eric, who hit him pretty hard several times.  Leon came in and sparred with Professor, and Oscar sparred with the Colonel.  As I watched them, I kept wondering if my left knee will hold up when I get into the ring later this week.  It felt fine as I did stretches today, but I wasn't too sure.  The right knee took somewhat of a hit also back in January when I nearly ended up under the wheels of a car.  Both knees may fail me at the wrong moment in the ring.  I overheard Colonel talking about the arthritis in his knees.  I could sympathize with that, as I moved slower than usual around the heavy bag. 

Park District Cost Cutting

The gym wasn't open tonight.  The Chicago Park District decided to close their facilities today in an effort to cut costs.  Just so happens that today is also Casmir Pulaski Day, a holiday that is celebrated only in Chicago, I believe.  I was grumbling about the closure when I read it in the Red Line paper last week, thinking that it would put a dent in training time for the Golden Gloves.  But now that all the guys have lost their matches, it doesn't matter, at least not for that tournament anyway.

Kenny told me something the other day that I hadn't thought of before.  I told him I have diabetes, and it was recommended that I eat four to six small meals a day to keep the blood sugar even.  "That must it make it hard to cut weight for fights," Kenny said.  That's true, depending on what I eat, and unfortunately, I slip up from time to time and get food I shouldn't have.  Basically, I wouldn't wish diabetes on anyone.  Who wants to be told they can't eat this and that, especially sweets like they used to do? 

I've been thinking about working out in the church gym again, since I have a possible rematch with Andria coming up later this year.  My school schedule will be lighter this upcoming session, so I might be able to fit some extra exercise time in.  I need to do that anyway.  Ever since my knee was injured back in January, I've felt the pounds sneaking up on me. 

Found what I thought was a major steal on a used kettlebell the other day.  There's a shop called Play It Again Sports that sells mostly used sporting goods.  My main purpose was to buy a baseball bat to keep in my office at church.  Summer is coming, the gangs in the neighborhood have already started acting up, and there are times when I'm in the church alone.  'Nuff said. Pastor Roger shook his head when he heard about the baseball bat, as he also does whenever I tell stories where I advocate practicing self-defense.

In the shop, I saw a kettlebell with a price of $1.67.  "Alright!" I thought to myself.  Actually, it was $1.67 a pound, and the kettlebell was 25 pounds.  I have a few of those at home, but none above ten pounds.  I'd like to have heavier ones and do more kettlebell workouts to build muscle (especially to strengthen my bad knees) and to burn fat.

And Then There Were None

I napped a little too long this afternoon, and had to practically run out of my apartment to get to the Golden Gloves Saturday evening.  I walked in just as a little girl began to sing the National Anthem.  Once the song ended, I found Oscar and Kenny.  Alan hadn't arrived yet, so Kenny got Oscar's headgear and gloves.  Just as I suspected, Oscar's fight was scheduled early in the evening; his bout was the second one.  Alan arrived a short time later.

Oscar's opponent, Charlie Richardson out of Mango gym, was taller than he was.  "You're going to help in the corner, right?" Alan asked, but I replied, "It'll probably be better to have Kenny there to translate."  Oscar's English isn't so good, and the Spanish I learned in high school didn't stick well in my brain. I was hoping that Oscar wouldn't keep going for Richardson's head and concentrate more on body shots.  Unfortunately, Oscar had the fight stopped on him in the second round.

I saw Bill, the coach at Hamlin, who asked if I was okay.  He'd heard about me getting hit by a car back in January.  That accident cost me a rematch with Andrea at that time.  But Bill told me the rematch is still available.  We've got all spring and summer to prepare for it, as it won't take place until later in the year. I told him that I planned to start sparring again later this month, and that I was willing to take the rematch.

Kenny's fight was number nine of the evening.  It appeared that the people on his opponent's side were a little nervous when they learned their guy would be fighting Kenny.  "That's a good sign," I laughed.  But, alas, the laugh would be on us.  Kenny's opponent kept holding him, and Alan pointed that out to John, the referee.  Kenny was sort of forced into fighting the way his opponent wanted him to fight.  After awhile, the referee kept repeating to both fighters, "Don't hold, don't hold."  Kenny's opponent was awarded the win.

Before Professor's bout, Alan and I got some food from the cafeteria, and he treated me.  I only had a cheeseburger and a Diet Pepsi.  "You're a cheap date," Alan told me, and I laughed.  There was a cute little boy at the next table, who was sitting with his father.  He and I played "peek-a-boo" for a few moments while Alan and I ate.  Alan and I didn't linger too long because many of the matches seemed to be ending quickly, and we wanted to have time to get Professor ready for his match.

"If I didn't see you, I wasn't going to fight," Professor told Alan when we caught up with him.  Professor's turn came against Daniel Johnson from Rockit Gym.  Johnson looked more muscular, but when both men got into the ring, Alan and I didn't think that Johnson had a huge advantage over Professor.  They looked to be about even.  But then, Johnson appeared to be the busier person once the bell rang.  The next thing Alan and I knew, the fight had been stopped -- and not in Professor's favor.

Alan offered to give me a ride to the 'L.  On the way out, we wished Reggie good luck as we wouldn't be around to see his fight, which was going to take place much later in the evening.  Reggie has been training at Loyola, but was fighting for LA Fitness.  I just checked the results of Reggie's bout, and he didn't have any more luck than Professor, Kenny, and Oscar.

I sighed as I waited for the train.  "Everybody's out," I thought.  It's not the first time that's happened.  When Steve was the coach, there were seasons when all the fighters who were competing were done before the prelims were over.  It's not a good feeling, but you always have to remember that it takes a lot of courage to step into a ring.  Not many can do that, and the ones who competed on Saturday did their best.

Liver Shot

I got to Gordon Tech closer to 7:00 PM Friday night for the Golden Gloves, and quickly found Kenny and Danny.  They were sitting way up in the bleachers.  When Alan came in later and we gestured to him, he gave us a look that said, "I can't make it all the way up there!"  He remained down on the floor. 

I talked to a guy named Victor who was looking for a coaching job with the Park District.  I told him about a posting I saw about Simons Park needed a new coach.  "I'm assuming that Johnny Heard is retiring," I told Victor.  Victor confirmed that Heard is a a friend of his, and yes, Heard is retiring.  I suggested that Victor start with checking the Chicago Park District's web site.

Kenny assisted Alan in the corner with Danny.  Barely a minute into the fight, Danny was on the canvas.  I first I thought he took a low blow.  Turns out that it was a liver shot.  The referee had no choice but to count Danny out when he didn't get back up quickly.  I felt bad for him.  He started out strong, but got caught as they say.

Tomorrow night will be Kenny and Oscar's turn in the ring.  

Boxing In a Small Place

In the middle of the Golden Gloves festivities last night, Tina Wonogas asked the crowd, "How do you like the new place here at Gordon Tech?"  The response was underwhelming.  "Okay, wrong question!  Are you having fun tonight?" she continued.  I kept thinking as I looked around the venue that it was so small.  By the times the finals come around, the place will be packed like sardines in a can.  There were less bleachers and less room on the floor for reserved seating. 

The usual faces were present: Shifty, Percy, Ted, Tracy, Johnny, Jack, Bill, Luis, Sam, Chupa, Gary, etc.  I didn't know that Alan was acquainted with referee "Gentleman" Gerald Scott, who is often seen on HBO, Showtime, and ESPN officiating matches.  Alan, myself and Professor were sitting ringside near the referee while waiting for Professor's match to come up. 

I realized just after I got there that I had forgotten to bring my camera, otherwise, I would have posted pictures on here.  I won't forget it next time.  I just have to dodge the security guys who don't want people taking pictures.  It shouldn't be a problem if I'm taking pictures of individuals as opposed to taking shots (or video) of the actual matches, however.  The organizers are tough about that, though.  I overheard Tracy, one of the event's organizers, telling off a reporter who apparently showed up last night wanting a story, but who didn't clear things ahead of time. 

Earlier in the evening, a coach's meeting took place in the school's cafeteria.  Alan hadn't arrived yet.  I told Professor, "Maybe I better go and see what they're talking about."  I am a coach after all, so why shouldn't I not go?  It was the first time I had attended a coach's meeting at the Gloves.  There had to be about seventy guys in that meeting.  Myself and an Asian woman were the only two females in the room.  John, an official, went over some rules and procedures that the coaches needed to know.  I was surprised to learn that officials and referees have to had overseen 300 to 500 fights before being allowed to officiate over Golden Gloves matches.  Luis Rios made it clear that passbooks were going to be checked of everyone who was planning to work the corners of the fighters.  Apparently there had been incidents of people in the corners who weren't officially authorized to be there in the past. 

Unfortunately, some guys who plan to fight and want to fight on certain nights don't get to do so.  That was the case with Kenny, who expected to have a match Thursday night.  "This is going to eff up my training schedule," he told me later as he drove me home.  Reggie and Professor made the schedule.  Danny and Oscar are tentatively scheduled for tonight; Kenny will return for his match on Saturday.

The guys made fun of me because I was eating what they thought was a whole lot before the fights began.  It's become a running joke at the Gloves for the past few years now.  I hadn't eaten since 11:00 AM, and I was starving by the time I got to Gordon Tech around 6:30 PM.  I had a thick cheeseburger, BBQ chips, a slice of banana cake (I was entitled because my blood sugar was a little low), and a Diet Pepsi. 

"You don't have a wife beater shirt?" Alan asked Professor.  He ended up having to cut the sleeves off of the T-shirt that Professor was wearing.  Kenny held pads for Professor to warm him up beforehand.  Professor spoke to professional boxer David Diaz before his fight and got some encouraging words.  Professor slipped on the canvas twice during the first round against a guy named Marcin Kunicki who was fighting out of HyperFight Gym.  He rallied back to catch the guy with a series of jabs.  But by the third round, both men were in trouble as they were tired out.  While Professor sat in the corner between the second and last round, Alan admonished him.  "One effing body shot!  You can't give him one effing body shot?"  A body shot most likely would have stopped Kunicki.  The bell rang again and the men fought their fatigue to get through the round.  In the end, Professor got the win.  Manny, who was there, commented, "The other guy kept looking like he was surprised that Professor was still throwing punches at him!"

Reggie's fight was several bouts later, and a posse of his friends were there to cheer him on.  Reggie was up against Lucas Hyre, who was fighting for Team Colon.  Reggie tagged Hyre with a left jab, and Hyre fell into the ropes before stumbling to the canvas.  The referee ruled that to be a slip.  Reggie's next actions left no doubt, however.  He backed his opponent up into a corner and pummeled him with body shots and hooks to the head.  Hyre slumped down in the corner, and that was it.  Reggie was declared the winner, and I believe he did the job less than one minute into the first round.  His friends and I jumped to our feet and chanted Reggie's name.

Preparing For Thursday and Friday

Frank came in and asked, "Where is everybody?" Danny 2 (Kenny's friend) was stuck at work, and Professor wasn't there, either.  Oscar, Kenny, Colonel, and Danny 1 were there.  Sparring took place, but Alan didn't want the guys to do too much of it.  It's too close to the Gloves, and it wouldn't do for anyone to get hurt before their matches.  Earlier at work, I printed out a copy of the Gloves' schedule for Alan, and I brought that in. Kenny and Danny will have matches on Thursday, and Oscar is scheduled to fight this Friday.

My left knee keeps frustrating me.  One day it feels fine, then the next day, I'm back to limping again.  On other days both the left and right knee want to fight with me.  I can run down the steps of the 'L station, then a few hours later, have a hard time climbing up the steps to my apartment.  I was practically tip toeing to work this morning because of all of the ice on the ground.  "I won't have to worry about diabetes killing me off," I grumbled to myself.  "It'll probably be due to a slip on the ice, which I'll think is nothing, but it'll never heal, and then I'll die." I worry that when I do resume sparring sometime in March, the left knee will not support me like it once did.  Like Kenny told me some time ago, when an injury happens to a joint like that, most times it is never the same like it was. 

I keep assuming things about Pastor Roger that aren't true.  "Why do you think I disapprove of you boxing?  I never said that," he said recently.  "Well, you've said some things that make it appear that you don't think women should participate in certain things," I said.  We were talking about the girl in Iowa who won a wrestling championship.  Pastor understood that some boys might have been reluctant to wrestle her because they did not want to touch her inappropriately.  "I don't have a problem with you boxing because you're a woman.  I have a problem with the fact that you're boxing and you're not twenty years old anymore," he grinned.  I had to laugh.  "That's a nice way to put it," I said. 

A Sunday At The Gym

Alan opened up the gym this afternoon particularly for the guys who will be competing in the Golden Gloves this week.  Kenny, Oscar, and Reggie, who are all signed up to compete, were there; Jacob and I came in just for the workout.  All of the guys, including Alan, sparred with each other.  My left knee continues to keep me on the sidelines. 

A few kids came strolling in asking where Barry was.  "He's not here on Sunday," I told them, and I repeated the answer -- a bit more sternly -- when they asked the question again.  I had been at church earlier today where one kid felt the need to go running around the pews during service, and most of the rest were unnecessarily loud during the fellowship hour.  The last thing I wanted to deal with was more kids acting out.  One of the kids claimed he had a fight coming up.  Alan told them they could hang around to watch, but they couldn't work out.  Disinterested, they left, but not before one little boy gave me a hard stare down.  "Whatever," I thought, "they need to go home and do some homework or something."

Reggie said that it would be announced on the Chicago Golden Gloves web site tomorrow who will have matches this week.  That's a welcome change from getting all the way down there on the first night, only to learn that some people will not have a match, and being unsure as to when they will fight. 

Those In The Gloves

Fernando, a trainer, came in with one of his fighters, Reggie, to get some sparring in for his guy.  Reggie is strong with muscular arms.  He signed up to compete in the Golden Gloves.  Reggie sparred with Kenny.  In the photo below, Alan watches as they mix it up in the ring.

The other guys who signed up for the Gloves are Kenny, Oscar, Professor and Danny (Kenny's friend).  Alan is planning to open up the gym on Sunday afternoon so they all can get extra practice.  That used to happen when Steve was the coach, and it was close to the Gloves.  Alan has to clear it with Mary.  Below, Professor (in the blue headgear, leaning on the ropes) watches Kenny and Reggie spar.

So many looky-loos were hanging around in the gym today.  I got that "looky-loo" term from an ad for a home business opportunity I saw years ago.  It basically means a person who goes window shopping with no intention to buy.  There were four of them hanging around.  I had to tell one of them to stop hitting the heavy bags; he had no gloves or handwraps on, and on top of that, the form displayed wasn't so hot.  "You can break your hand, son," I said.  Another one was on the second heavy bag in the ring, and as soon as the bell rang to end the round, I walked up and stopped the bag from swinging.  When the bell rang again, I practiced on it, effectively keeping him off of it.  I overheard one of the looky-loos say, "Hey man, I bet she could kick our asses." 

Alan told me that Josh came in last Wednesday, but Jordan hasn't been in for awhile.  I had noticed that everytime Oscar was sparring with someone, Jordan was watching him with interest.  Then I'd hear Jordan ask Alan if he could spar.  I'm assuming that Jordan wanted to mix it up with Oscar.  I could have told him, based on the times I sparred with Oscar, is that Oscar is not an easy target.  In the next photo, Oscar spars with Kenny.

I was afraid to get on the scale in the gym.  I haven't been on the one at home in awhile, thinking that, due to not being able to work out much, I was going to be unpleasantly surprised.  Well, I was a little.  The needle hasn't moved up much, but it didn't move down much, either.

Alan asked if I was going to spar.  "Eh, my knee still needs more time to heal.  You know I'm such a delicate flower," I said jokingly.  "A rose among thorns," Alan grinned.

Renewing At Gordon Tech

I went up to Gordon Tech High School to renew my boxing coach's license.  After decades of the Chicago Golden Gloves Tournament being held at St. Andrews Gym, it will now take place at the high school.  Allegedly, it is a bigger venue.  I only saw the library where the registration was held, so I have no idea how big their gym is. 

Danny, Kenny's friend, was there filling out his registration when I arrived.  Other familiar faces included Ted, Jack, and Rita.  Ted told the men sitting at the first registration table, "She's signing up as a boxer."  "No, not this time.  Renewing for the coach's license," I answered.  The process was painless and quick.  New this year -- coaches now get license books, just like the fighters.  "Just show them that book and you can get into the tournaments free.  If anyone says anything different, you tell them that the president of USA Boxing Illinois told you that you could," one of the older men at the table told me.  "Thanks.  Your name, sir?" I responded.  He extended his hand, and I shook it.  "I'm Louis Rios," he said.  He owns a well known and respected gym. 

I'm not sure which other boxers from Loyola Park may have signed up.  I'm assuming that if Alan didn't renew his coach's license today, he'll do it tomorrow. 

Valentine's Day at the Gym

Upon seeing all the guys in the gym when I walked in Monday night, I commented, "So I see I wasn't the only one who couldn't get a date."  Alan laughed and wished me a happy Valentine's Day.  Two of his high school buddies, Ira and Donny, were visiting the gym that night.  He introduced them to me.  When Frank came in, it was like old home week.  He had gone to the same high school as Alan and the other two men.

Sparring was done on a round robin basis.  Below, Alan and Ira watch as Kenny and Hector spar.  Later, Alan sparred with Danny (Kenny's friend).  I believe Oscar sparred with Jacob.  Professor sparred with Kenny. 

There was a lot of activity in the gym, as has been per usual over the last few weeks.  I wasn't feeling my workout for some reason, and I didn't work as hard as I usually do.  I was so happy to get down to the gym the one day of the week I've been able to go, but then I got lazy when I got there.  Below, Frank and the Colonel (Ken Sr.) talk, as Hector looks on.

I don't know what's up with Angela.  She started the second week of this current term, came in one other time, but hasn't been seen since.  If you're wondering why there have been no shots of women (other than myself) here lately, it's because I'm the only woman in the gym again.

A couple of looky loos -- one Black, the other Hispanic -- who had hung around the gym the week before came back to get another look.  I heard the Black kid say something to Alan about the fee being a little high for him.  I've said it before; the high fee keeps a lot of guys out who would otherwise be there. 

I had gone to fill the water bottles when suddenly, a group of kids appeared outside the door of the gym.  It looked as if one kid was being ganged up on and the confusion threatened to spill inside the gym.  I hurried back down the hall with the idea that I may have to break up a fight and/or throw somebody out of the gym.  Turned out the kids were playing around, and they quickly dispersed.  However, it didn't look good.  A preview of what we might have to put up when the weather is warm again, perhaps. 

It's Poppin' At Loyola Park

After leaving church for the day, I slipped and fell -- on my bad knee, of course -- about a block north from the building.  I was so disgusted that I cursed and just sat on a snow bank for a few moments.  A kindly male stranger who was passing by helped back up on my feet.  It snowed again for a little while this afternoon.  There are mounds of snow on street.  Below is one right outside the Loyola Park field house.

Looking around the gym on Monday night really made me wish -- again -- that I could be there on Wednesdays, too.  This winter session has been poppin' with activity and a near-packed gym. 

Michael, Kenny, Jacob and Oscar sparred.  Michael told me he was going to beg off sparring from here on in, as he doesn't want to get seriously hurt.  He thinks he's become too old for that activity.  "You're not that old," I told him.  "You're an anomaly, and Alan is nuts," Michael smiled.  Oscar had to reach up to get to Jacob's head, but managed to get a lot of good shots in. 

Kenny, Professor and Hayk gave pad work to others. Hayk worked with Danny as seen in the picture below (Hayk is on the right).  Kenny even gave pad work to Jordan, who kept bugging him for it earlier in the evening. 

I finally asked the Colonel what his real name was.  "It's Ken," he said.  "Oh," I said, looking over at Kenny, his son, "Ken Sr. and Ken Jr."  "People call me Colonel, Commander, Officer. . .I answer to it all.  Just as as long as they don't call me something that begins with mother and ends with er!" he said, and we both laughed.  I found out from him that Kenny reached 2nd place two times at the Golden Gloves.

While driving me home, Alan asked when I would begin sparring again.  "Probably in March.  I want to rest my knee up," I said.  "That's the smartest thing you've said," he said, grinning.  I playfully popped him on his shoulder.  "Well, you were in the gym the day after you were hit by that car, hardly able to walk.  That was crazy!" Alan continued.  

Snowed In

Professor sent me a message asking if I knew if the gym was open tonight.  A quick check of the Chicago Park District's web site showed that Loyola was one of the field houses that would not be open this evening.  It's too bad.  My paralegal class was canceled this evening, but I would have trudged through the snow to go to the gym.

I had a taste for eggs and bacon this morning.  Too bad I didn't have a taste for them yesterday afternoon while I was shopping at the Morse Fresh Market.  I fought the snow drifts this morning to make a trip to the corner store.  The snow showed me that my left knee is still very unstable.  "That's all I need to do is to re-injure it," I grumbled to myself.  As I approached the corner of my block on the way back, I saw a guy standing there, looking in disbelief.  "All this snow," he said, as I got closer.  "This is 1967", I commented, referring to the blizzard that literally shut Chicago down in January of that year.  "You remember that, too?" he said, and we both laughed. 

High Monday Activity

Kenny told me he noticed that I wasn't throwing my uppercuts correctly.  I had been leading with my head, plus, winding the punch back too far before executing it.  He showed me how to throw them shorter and with more leverage using my shoulders.  I appreciated that, and I practiced them most of the evening. 

Alan kept telling me to "turn your back leg!" when I threw my right.  Both knees are jacked up: the left from the car accident a few weeks ago, and the right because it had to take on extra work duty because the left is messed up.  It was hard to get my right knee to cooperate, but it did, eventually. 

A lot of guys were in the gym Monday night: Hector, Kenny, Willie, Oscar, Michael (with glasses), Professor, Danny, Frank, Hayk, Vil.  Jordan was there, too.  His name was on the attendance sheet, so I guess he's paid up.  No Angela that night -- she's the only other woman signed up for the gym this session.  Josh, Jamil and Leon didn't come in, either, nor did Sadiq, whom I saw driving a cab while I was on my way to church on Sunday.  Kenny told me that Chloe had come by last Wednesday and asked about me.  I'm sorry I missed her.

The Colonel was there, which was a surprise.  Hadn't seen him in a few years.  I learned that he's Kenny's dad.  The Colonel -- so nicknamed because he's a Vietnam veteran -- is pretty amazing.  "This is my second workout of the day.  I did Jiu Jitsu this morning," he told me.  In the past, the Colonel had done triathalons.  For 30 years, he taught fitness classes at the McCormick Boys' Center.  He's 64 years old and looked to be in great shape.  He plans to come by the boxing gym more often.

A lot of activity was going on: Frank sparred with Michael, and that was their second time (they had sparred last Wednesday); Oscar sparred with Kenny; Willie was holding pads for people; and Professor had some of the guys doing push ups.  The way Jordan was hitting the speed bag, I thought for a moment that he might break it.  Hector was surprised at how busy the place was.  "It usually gets like this before the Golden Gloves," I said. 

Tossing, Huffing, and Puffing

Professor, Kenny, Oscar, and a new guy, Hector, threw the medicine ball around, a drill that lasted several rounds.  If someone dropped the ball, all had to drop and do ten push ups.  It looked like a good exercise.  Of course, I couldn't do it, as my left knee is still out of whack.  Hector got tired, and bowed out.  "Twenty years old and huffing and puffing!  When I was twenty years old, I didn't know what huffing and puffing was!" Kenny remarked.  "I know that's right!  Neither did I," I said.  If only I had the energy and stamina I did back then. 

Alan moved around in the ring with Paul.  It was Paul's first time.  Alan was not hitting hard, but he did tap Paul about the head.  After two rounds, Paul was done.  "I'm amazed at how exhausting that is!" he exclaimed.  "See, I told you it's different from hitting the bags," Alan said.

Kenny sparred with yet another new guy, Danny (not to be confused with the other Danny, who was also in the gym).  Danny is 22 years old, and a southpaw.  Kenny is quick, but so is Danny.  Their style of fighting is similar to each other.  It was very interesting to watch.  Oscar also sparred with Kenny, but Oscar kept leading with his head instead of with his jab. Oscar also had his right hand down too much, and Kenny was tagging him left and right. 

Just to show you how nutty I can be, here is a shot of me with the knee supporter on.  Alan shook his head and said, "That knee doesn't look good.  You could possibly injure it further.  A ligament may be torn."  "My problem is that I'm hard-headed," I told Alan.



It felt like I hadn't been in the gym for ages, but that's because I'm only able to show up once a week for awhile.  I really wish I didn't have to miss the second day, but it's only another month and a half and I'll be back to my regular schedule.