So this guy comes up to me and asks if I had any boxing gloves. I did. So I brought them out. He looks at them and then looks out at the other guys grappling. He doesn't grapple. "It ain't (his) style." He looks away from the guys and asks me if I had any more boxing gloves. I did to. Then he asked if I wanted to spar...
I had been aching, itching and waiting for somebody to ask me that question!
"Sure... so are we just gonna box or do we toss out kicks to?"
"We'll just spar lightly man, do some muay thai, you know?... just spar lightly and stuff..."
"Okay..." So I got my gloves on. Had my mouth piece in and we went at it... I opened up with a few right jabs (I fight as a southpaw, right hand forward, left hand back) and followed with a quick left hook, to his body since this guy was about 6 feet tall and had to have had 80 to 100 pounds over me!
It became a flurry after that... and I was getting the better of the exchanges. I guess I hit the guy real good once cuz he started throwing his kicks and man did those hurt!
As a matter of fact my right thigh is sore to the touch and my shoulder feels bruised but there is no visible mark. And I ain't to sure if my arm is jacked up because of a kick that he threw to my head and I blocked it, or I just punched wrong with it.
But I didn't give in. I kept charging forward not giving him the distance he wanted and kept up with my punches in bunches. I'm not sure if I hit him low or he really just needed to catch his breath cuz I was unleashing all sorts of hell at his stomach, so he just stopped and walked away for a bit.
We sparred for what he said was "like eight minutes". It felt more like five minutes to me.
I was pumped and ready to go at it again! There I am jumping and bouncing, anticipating him to recover any moment. Then my dad decided that he would time this round. Just three minutes, nothing I can't handle. He sounded us off and bang, bang, boom!
I had lost no energy, I fought just as hard as when I started.
"This guy is a machine!" he said as he backed away from my onslaught.
His kicks kept coming and I was still throwing my hands. Body shot, body shot, face, body!
One of his punches caught my eye and all of a sudden my left eye's vision was blurry. So what? I still fought. There was gonna be no quit in me.
"One minute!" my dad yelled out. I pressed harder. All the guys that were grappling had stopped and gotten off the mats to watch and give us space, but I kept him where I wanted him, up against the wall!
The round came to a close and the guys were yelling out combinations to go for. We tied up in a clinch and I hooked to his body, hooked to his head, then punched straight to his face.
"Time!" my dad called out. I felt good. I knew I had done better than him. I was congratulated by my dad and Brother Jerry (my instructor). They were all smiles and I was satisfied.
I found my contact lens on the mats. That's why I was seeing blurry. Went down stairs to the bathroom to get the contact back in. On my way there I saw the dude laying down on the floor next to a giant fan.
A few minutes shortly he made his way into the bathroom and we talked for a bit. I found out that he had trained in muay thai for five years! but he took about one year off and just lost interest. But I believe I inspired him to want to get back into fighting condition again, maybe to settle the score some day.
Never the less, I had a victorious night and a lot of fun.
So yeah... that's what's up...
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