The Boxer

Well, I won my sparing match the other night…Yes, that’s a joke. I don’t win anything when I box. I survive, at best. I box for the benefit of the workout and not to train for a real fight, but I can’t resist a round in the ring. Then I get in the ring, cover up pretty quick and remember that I’m not suppose to get Concussion #21 under doctors’ orders (and more importantly, common sense’s reminder), so what the hell am I doing here?? There was, however, a moment in that sparing round, about seven seconds into it when I threw a straight left that connected (with something). If I had any power behind that punch, if I had instincts to follow one punch with another, that half-second of glory might have turned into two or three seconds of glory. So basically, I was the deranged idiot leaving the ring at the end of the round with a busted face giggling wildly, lost in a day dream of three seconds of potential glory when all I really did was punch my opponent’s shoulder squarely.