Boxing is NOT for wimps

November 8, 2007

box_g_calzaghe_kessler_580.jpg

I like to pretend I’m a tough guy, but I found out recently that I am indeed a big wimp.  The true tough guys are the athletes that can slug it out for 12 rounds.   I sustained two boxing injuries this week and I am almost ready to hang up my gloves.

The first incident was Monday night.  My dad and I were watching the Kessler v. Calzaghe super middleweight fight (pictured above) while making dinner.  It was an intensely good fight, that had heart, power, speed, bravado, and endurance.  Both men held the 12 rounds without slowing and were true entertainers.  The fight was so engaging that we proceeded to burn the pot we were cooking dinner in and had to put it outside to get the smell out of the house.  Calzaghe was just better, Kessler fought well but he just wasn’t as good of a fighter.  Both were previously undefeated.  If you are wondering how I got hurt watching tv, let me explain.  When a fight is good, my dad and I usually jump around imitating the boxers and swing around wildly.  We were boxing around during the breaks between rounds and one of his punches slide up my hand cutting my finger.  Now that stung a little at the time, but was no big deal.  Until a few hours later when it was clearly already infected.  I must have got some super fast bacteria in it.  It felt like it was on fire and ached to touch it, but a couple days of cleaning and neosporin and it is all good now (except a red badge of courage where the cut is).

The second incident was last night.  I was walking down the hallway with my mom, and made fun of her not being able to catch me (she was yelling about killing me or something).  Then I turned and was organizing my school papers that were on the couch.  I didn’t know she was doing anything in particular, and she thought I was going to run away.  So she turns and swings full out thinking I will be out of reach or something.  Instead she decks me in the face.  At first the impact was so intense I thought I would fall, but I was able to catch myself.  I was relieved that I hadn’t fallen.  Then I opened my eyes and was so dizzy I fell.   So my 60 year old my was able to knock my ass down with one punch.  Then once I got up and still had all my teeth, my mom laughed for the next hour and told me it was my fault.