Fight Camp 2.0

You never got me down Ray.

Fight Day 3 - Walked Over

Ladies and gents,

I tried my best but in the end it wasn't enough.  Other coaches were surprised I had chosen a tournament for my first amateur bout.  Most boxers have at least a few fights under them before they take a shot at a tournament.  It was highly stressful waiting three days for a bout, and I felt and fought anxious.  But it was a great deal of fun.  I became really close with my coaches and with the fellow boxers at my gym.  I have taken some time off since, finding my free time occupied by family and work.  But I am making plans for a return to the ring.  I learned that no amount of gym work or physical training can compensate for a lack of experience.  But there's no point of making excuses.  I tried hard.  I did my best.  I lost this time.  But there'll be another day.  Stay tuned.  And thanks for watching.

Fight Day 1 - Walk Over

No fight today as my opponent failed to show, making for a "walkover," or an automatic disqualification sending me to the quarterfinals.  While I was really disappointed to not fight, now I am mostly over my upper respiratory infection and I am more comfortable with the logistics of the tournament.  Plus, I was able to scout the rest of the boxers in my age and weight class.  Now, we have a good game plan and hopes of taking the tournament.  Stay tuned.

Day 67 - Rest and Refit

Forcing myself to rest has been tougher than getting myself to the gym.  Fortunately, three days before the tournament I am stuck in bed nursing a bad cold.  I am also coping with some extended soreness in my hamstrings.  I refuse to make excuses, though.  If anything, the timing is extremely fortunate.  It forces me to give my muscles a much needed rest and it gives my mind a break from training.  Getting sick was inevitable given the length (about eleven weeks) and intensity of my training.  It was just a matter of time before my body reacted negatively.  Luckily, it happened a few days before and not during the tournament.

Despite my cold, I found time to drive to Fantasy Springs Casino in Indio where the fight is taking place to register our time.  This tournament is going to be no joke.  They are setting up four rings and professional lighting.  The seating is amphitheater-like and there is plenty.  According to the organizer, there should be enough in my weight class to fight Tuesday through Saturday (if I win each day).

After watching novice 152-pounders from across the nation on Youtube I doubt there are any that can dominate me.  Based on my training and experience, I should be able to hold my own against anyone if I stick to the game plan.  If anything, I wish the rounds were a full three minutes as opposed to two.  During the last few weeks I have come to realize that I am a slow starter.  I am concerned, particularly against a taller boxer, that I won't have enough time to impress the judges if he gets off early.  But that is the beauty of boxing.  Every opponent poses a different set of problems to unlock and challenges to overcome.  For now, I rest.  I rest and I wait.

Day 62 - Adversity

The last couple of weeks have been a roller coaster.  First, I depleted myself, dropping below minimum weight and getting dangerously low in body fat.  I knew that I would have to scale if I wanted to run though and not crawl to the finish line.  Not working out was not an option.  But I had to boost my morale quickly.  So I did one thing that I love to do.  I ate.  And I ate.  For the most part, I stuck to healthy food.  However, I stopped counting calories and just had at it.  Unfortunately, I caught a stomach virus that has limited my strength but not my will to fight through.

 The real struggle has come on a separate front.  A week ago it seemed I would be going it alone - fighting "unattached" as they say in boxing circles - without a coach of my own to man my corner.  The coaches at my gym ran the numbers and found that it would cost over $500 to register the gym and its three coaches (Ray, Cornelius, and Muse).  For two days they wavered, telling me we should focus on next year.  No way, Jose.  I called the organizer for the tournament.  No coach, no problem he said.  Someone would wrap my hands and man my corner, even if I had never met him or her before.  I would be going it alone, I decided, relying only on my training and instincts.  Given the importance of a good corner, this would be far less than ideal.  But I had not come this hard to give up.

Furious, I stopped talking to the coaches, and decided to take my anger out on their mitts and the bags.  I might not be the most technical fighter at the tournament, but I was going to make someone pay for my disappointment.  Then, the other day, Mister Muse came to me at the end of the workout and told me to talk to Bill Jones, owner of the local car wash.  He will be sponsoring the gym at the tournament I was told.  This seemed too good to be true - like mana from heaven.

So now, nine days from the sound of that magic bell which draws fighting men together like a sonic magnet, all there is left to do is abstain, correct, stay loose, and, most of all, envision the victory.  Also, we have to pick out a uniform.  There is talk of a sleeveless shirt with the words BOOM BOOM on the back.  Whatever.  What matters is that we are here, we are ready, and the time is come.  Protect yourselves at all time.  At the sound of the bell, come out swinging.

Day 61 - Road Work

One of my favorite things about boxing is the euphemisms and idioms.  You do not practice boxing with someone else you spar.  You never ask someone if they want to spar with you.  You say, "Want to 'move around?'"  There is no punching bag but there are heavy bags and speed bags.  You do not run.  You do "road work."

Today, I got my last bit of road work in.  I went for the same twelve-mile run I have run each weekend (with one exception) for the last ten weeks.  The first time I did this run it took me over 2.5 hours.  I shaved a whole hour off that time, running a 7.5-minute mile pace.  A good question is why, if a round is only three minutes, and there are only three of them, would I run for such a long time?  If I reach the final, I could be boxing for four days straight.  From the beginning, my plan has been not just to compete, but to win, as it should be for any boxer.  So with that in mind, I take a long run once a week, through the streets of Downtown and Chinatown and the hills of Elysian Park next to Dodger Stadium and overlooking the Police Academy and Chavez Ravine.  When I get up as early as five on a Saturday or Sunday, I think to myself:

"Let my opponent sleep."

Day 44 - Fight Night

I was sitting listening to a lecture recently and my mind drifted to boxing.  This is not unusual for me.  That day, however, I found myself breaking a sweat, the hairs on my neck on end.  I pictured myself alternately pummeling and being overwhelmed by an opponent.  With a rush of anticipation I could feel the excitement of the crowd urging me on.  For the first time during this fight camp it was no longer just about training.  The fight is near.

There is something indescribably nerve-wracking about fighting in front of a crowd.  I have been to a couple championship bouts in Las Vegas and Atlantic City.  There is something about the audience that urges the fighters to a different level of speed and energy that sparring can never duplicate.  

I have never fought on enemy turf so to speak, or in a cold, air-conditioned casino hall.  Lately, though, I've been visualizing myself pulling out a tough fight, coming out strong in the later rounds, the referee raising my hand high in the air...