I have watched and own all of the Rocky movies, except for the new one. I have admired boxing and have always been a fan of it.
However, I wasn't aware of the strength that boxing took until I got into the ring myself. I had been taught how to fight at a very young age from my brother who beat me up and in his spare time taught me how to defend myself.
But street fighting is completley different than boxing. I stepped in the ring at age seventeen.
I had my boxing gloves on and was dapered out in red and gray basket ball shorts and a red tank top. My hair was pulled back and as I stepped into the ring my bangs flowed in my face. This boxing match was to the death, just how it was made to be in the beginning. It was an old fight reinvented into a new style. My opponent was a tall dark figure who didn't have a face but who was and unpredictable fighter. Watching the tapes of his old fights taught me nothing about his style other than that he had developed and crafted, inside and outside fighting. My opponent had a clear control of the fight but could do it as an inside fighter with a fast and close interaction. Though there were times when my opponent would become a brawler and lose all care for the rules just to beat His opponent. He was brutal and had a tendency to kill.
I had not yet really defined my skill yet in the ring and I had not really understand the game until I had my first fight. My style would soon become a combination of all and would be called 'hybrid' boxing. My style changed over time and became more and more defined as something undefined.
The atmosphere was somber and a tension was a familer taste that salavated in my sweat. There was one light in the room and that was a lamp that hung right above the ring. All you could see was the ring and even that was dimmed by the darkness that my opponent brought.
There was no one in His corner. He was completley on His own. I had my friend Joseph who had been with me from the beginning. You could say he was a divine intervention when it came to my fighting. He had the wisdom and intelligence of a seasoned fighter and was willing and ready to help me out in whatever way He could. He also was a dear friend who stuck with me through every up and down. The room was silent and every moment that had brought me to this fight flashed across my eyes. While I knew I probably wouldn't last this fight I had a sudden sense of peace and comfort about it. I knew that I was unequipped and that I was young...probably too young to be in the ring with Him, but my time had come.
The bell finally rang and we started to dance. He started on the inside- jab-jab-cross-jab. I slipped past all of the jabs and blocked against the cross punch. As I defended myself I realized that all of my senses were in hyper sensitive mode so everything I smelled, saw, tasted, and felt was ten times more vibrant.
He was so close I could smell him. He smelled like decaying flesh. Something that was so vile I wanted to cover my nose. When he got close I could see that He did have a face and I realized why you couldn't see it. It was covered by a black vinyl mask that covered everything. He was entangled under His mask. His flesh, if I can even call it that, was mangled and destroyed and His eyes were sunken in and dark.
I had gotten so caught up in his appearance and his smell that I had forgotten to block, and I suddenly felt it. I had gotten hit by a semi-truck at full speed. I stumbled back and fell to the ground while blood sputtered from my nose.
I looked down at my clothes while it poured out...'good thing I wore red today.'
I quickly got to my feet and remained calm. Early in my fighting days I would have been in a rage and let that get to me but I learned how to control my feelings.
We danced around again and as he came in to attack I started brawling. Just going pulling out long punches and long hooks It suprised Him and it seem like he was confused. He backed off but I wouldn't let him out of my sights. Then it happened.
One long punch and He was down. He stayed down there and then slowly got up. It was all just an act though and then suddenly it happened. I don't know if it was me or if He actually grew three more inches both in height and in width.
"Round One!" The announcer who was unseen yelled out and I walked to my corner discouraged and lost in this fight for my life.
However, I wasn't aware of the strength that boxing took until I got into the ring myself. I had been taught how to fight at a very young age from my brother who beat me up and in his spare time taught me how to defend myself.
But street fighting is completley different than boxing. I stepped in the ring at age seventeen.
I had my boxing gloves on and was dapered out in red and gray basket ball shorts and a red tank top. My hair was pulled back and as I stepped into the ring my bangs flowed in my face. This boxing match was to the death, just how it was made to be in the beginning. It was an old fight reinvented into a new style. My opponent was a tall dark figure who didn't have a face but who was and unpredictable fighter. Watching the tapes of his old fights taught me nothing about his style other than that he had developed and crafted, inside and outside fighting. My opponent had a clear control of the fight but could do it as an inside fighter with a fast and close interaction. Though there were times when my opponent would become a brawler and lose all care for the rules just to beat His opponent. He was brutal and had a tendency to kill.
I had not yet really defined my skill yet in the ring and I had not really understand the game until I had my first fight. My style would soon become a combination of all and would be called 'hybrid' boxing. My style changed over time and became more and more defined as something undefined.
The atmosphere was somber and a tension was a familer taste that salavated in my sweat. There was one light in the room and that was a lamp that hung right above the ring. All you could see was the ring and even that was dimmed by the darkness that my opponent brought.
There was no one in His corner. He was completley on His own. I had my friend Joseph who had been with me from the beginning. You could say he was a divine intervention when it came to my fighting. He had the wisdom and intelligence of a seasoned fighter and was willing and ready to help me out in whatever way He could. He also was a dear friend who stuck with me through every up and down. The room was silent and every moment that had brought me to this fight flashed across my eyes. While I knew I probably wouldn't last this fight I had a sudden sense of peace and comfort about it. I knew that I was unequipped and that I was young...probably too young to be in the ring with Him, but my time had come.
The bell finally rang and we started to dance. He started on the inside- jab-jab-cross-jab. I slipped past all of the jabs and blocked against the cross punch. As I defended myself I realized that all of my senses were in hyper sensitive mode so everything I smelled, saw, tasted, and felt was ten times more vibrant.
He was so close I could smell him. He smelled like decaying flesh. Something that was so vile I wanted to cover my nose. When he got close I could see that He did have a face and I realized why you couldn't see it. It was covered by a black vinyl mask that covered everything. He was entangled under His mask. His flesh, if I can even call it that, was mangled and destroyed and His eyes were sunken in and dark.
I had gotten so caught up in his appearance and his smell that I had forgotten to block, and I suddenly felt it. I had gotten hit by a semi-truck at full speed. I stumbled back and fell to the ground while blood sputtered from my nose.
I looked down at my clothes while it poured out...'good thing I wore red today.'
I quickly got to my feet and remained calm. Early in my fighting days I would have been in a rage and let that get to me but I learned how to control my feelings.
We danced around again and as he came in to attack I started brawling. Just going pulling out long punches and long hooks It suprised Him and it seem like he was confused. He backed off but I wouldn't let him out of my sights. Then it happened.
One long punch and He was down. He stayed down there and then slowly got up. It was all just an act though and then suddenly it happened. I don't know if it was me or if He actually grew three more inches both in height and in width.
"Round One!" The announcer who was unseen yelled out and I walked to my corner discouraged and lost in this fight for my life.
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