A few weeks ago I wrote a blog called “I want to get punched in the face.” Let me just say now that, “I take it back.” I do not want to get punched in the face. Getting punched in the face hurts. It is not fun.
I’ve been going to about two boxing classes a week for the last few weeks, and it has been fun. I love hitting the bags. I love going through the combinations. Until Wednesday night, I even loved sparring. Guys have been really cool about taking it easy on me. I’ve sparred with a couple of different guys, and we’ve traded some light punches, worked on some combinations and counters, but nothing real hard. After each round I am wiped out. Even though I know we’re not really fighting, there is something about sparring that turns up the adrenaline.
I said a couple of weeks ago that I wanted to get punched in the face. Most of my sparring didn’t include very many punches to the face. There were a couple, but none that were very hard. Then came the shot I took last Wednesday night. I made a few mistakes.
1. I was sparring with someone I didn’t know. Big mistake. The guys I had sparred with before were guys that I watched for three weeks before I stepped in with them. This guy was a new guy (at least to me). I watched him spar once, and he seemed like he was punching kind of hard, but I didn’t think much of it. The guys I spar with punch each other hard, then turn it down a notch to fight the new guy.
2. I didn’ t wear headgear. But I never wear the headgear. It doesn’t fit (big surprise). I think this guy interpreted my unadorned head as a sign of toughness instead of what it really meant – a sign of big-headedness.
3. I let him punch me in the face. We were sparring. He was dancing around a lot. Every once in awhile he would take some weird dipping punch at my stomach that meant nothing. I was getting bored. I decided to scrap with him a little. Then he punched me in the face. It hurt. We kept going. It’s not like he knocked me out. I wasn’t cut (though there was a distinct mark on my cheek the next morning). I wasn’t injured. It just hurt, and I decided that I had been terribly wrong before.
In conclusion: I no longer want to get punched in the face. I tried it. It sucks. I will probably continue boxing. I will probably keep sparring, just not with young kids that want to prove something against the Fat Pastor.
The Fat Pastor 
Duly noted!
I’m glad that you don’t want to get punched in the face anymore.
I’ve never been punched anywhere besides my shoulder by friends.
I’m glad that I’ve never been in a fight, or been punched in the face.
However, in 6th grade, I initiated a “fight” with John, who continues to be one of my best friends. We’ve eliminated that altercation as interfering with our being pals. That brings our friendship back to 3rd grade. Oh, yeah! The “fight” involved a brief wrestle to the ground. I noticed a grass stain (We weren’t allowed to wear Jeans to school.), and called the “fight” off. I later wrestled with John in 8th grade. My pinning combination was the “chicken wing”. That was many moons ago. We get together a couple of times each year. No matter what we do, we concur that, “It was a good time.”.
Those “olden days” are sometimes reflected upon with good spirit.