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Apr 3, 2009

Not Collapse (A Boxing Drama)

Last night was mixed emotions: frustrations, thrills, happiness, depressions, anger, pride.

I walked to the gym from the office and was throwing one-two punches against the wind. I said to myself, when I'm tired, I don't want to think about how to punch anymore.. I'll just make it an instinct to throw  the jab straight-hook-straight combination and then move to the side, throw the upper-hook and step back to breathe and rest. Then try the basic jab straight-hook.. do some variations to confuse the opponent, then revert back to the  jab-straight-hook-straight combination. I was excited. Thrilled and very excited.

I thought of last night's sparring match as my first periodical exam. This will be the fight to show all of what I've learned so far, my expectations were so high, excitement builds up to the brink, it's spilling over already.

I logged in, got a locker key after I deposited my ID, signed the logbook, and proceeded to the change room to change clothes. "Game!", my trainer shouted in excitement. It's time to continue the interrupted sparring from last week (I got butted on the head while exchanging close-range punches).

I then wrapped my hands excitedly and proceeded to the training area near the boxing ring. I was instructed to not do the skip ropes, just warm myself up and relax.

I had to wait for my trainer to finish three rounds of mitts with another trainee. I just practiced my footwork, throw some punch combinations while staring at the mirror to see how I deliver my punches. I was relaxed and energetic. 

I made a promise to my girl that I'll do my best and possibly knock my trainer down. Hahaha. I want to see how strong I am. Or how weak. I want to know how far I can go with my skills, or how untalented I am to compete.

For a beginner like me, it's all about testing myself to the limit just to know where I stand.

---

My trainer and I stepped into the ring to begin the sparring match. He ensured that I'm wearing my mouthpiece and then he secured the headgear into my, well of course, my head. :D Lastly he fitted the 16-oz thickly padded gloves to both of my hands.

Likewise, he then prepared himself and we waited for the start of the 3-minute mark to start the first round. We were scheduled for six three-minute rounds with 30-second rest periods in between rounds.

Touch gloves. We're ready.

I popped jabs and moved to my side. I love first round fights, I'm usually full of energy at the starting round. I threw lots of left jabs and followed it up with my money shot, my best shot -- the right straight. He backpedaled, I chased him and inched closer.

I then threw one-two combinations against his head and landed a sweet right uppercut right into his midsection. Then I backed up and we started all over again in the center of the ring.

He's smart. He lets me throw punches at the first few rounds just to see me tire out in the middle and last rounds. That's when he starts to punish me.

But we're still in the first round, so I just thought of unleashing everything in my arsenal.

Jabs -- checked. It was relentless. Sometimes it's getting slow, but most of the time it disrupts his rhythm and sets up my big right hand.

Right Straight -- checked. It is my best punch, the most damaging and most powerful punch in my arsenal. Probably in most of boxers. It's the straight punch that's the best punch available. I am able to land the right hand. Sometimes, he ducks under to avoid it, sometimes he steps back to get out of my reach. But when it hits, I know he feels it.

Left Hook -- failed. It was my weakest punch, it's not strong, it's not landing, it's ugly.

Right Hook -- forget it. I don't throw it, don't know when and how to throw it.

Left Uppercut -- failed. It's very frustrating to practice and perfect the left upper cut only to find yourself incapable of throwing it in an actual match.

Right Uppercut -- checked. It connects beautifully on close range to his midsection. It fails
to connect when I tried to connect it to his head. 

After evaluating the chances of each and every punch that I have, I was driven to use only three punches -- jab, straight, right uppercut.

I thought the first two rounds were mine, as I landed the right straight and kept putting the pressure on him by backing him up to the ropes. When he's trapped on the ropes, I would unleash the one-two to the head and then upper to the body and left hook to head. 
He would counter punch afterwards, but then I'm long gone and away from him after the upper-hook combination.

It was all I hoped for, until he get mad and threw a straight left that penetrated and hit me in the mouth.

He drew the first blood as I suffered a cut in the upper lip. We stopped for a few seconds as he checked the damage.

He apologized. He said it was not his intention to hurt me. I said I'm OK, let's fight.

He checked it again. And said sorry. I repeated my words and urged him to continue, I guess it was my pride. I'm not gonna quit now, It's just the second round.

He became tentative to attack me in the head again. "Partida". "Awa."  He thought I couldn't handle the head blows, so he shifted his full attack to my stomach.

I capitalized on his mercy. If he was not gonna attack me in the head, I will. So I kept on my bread-and-butter combination, jab, jab, straight.

Jab-jab-straight. When he backpedaled, I would throw the one-two to the head and uppercut to the body. When I missed the right straight, he would capitalize and punish me with counter punches. He would always time the first jab I would throw and counter with a right hook to my head.

I wouldn't bother, as I long as I can hit with my jab-straight combo, damn with the counter punches! I was in attack mode, I wouldn't back down.

Round 3 starts. I was a little worried. This is the round where I suffered a head butt the last time we sparred. So I kept my distance and wasn't as aggressive as the first two rounds. Fatigue sets in.. My mind says punch him in the face. My body says get out of harms' way and try to rest a little bit more.

He sensed the indecision and fatigue on my part, so he backed me up with relentless pressure. He threw a lot of body punches to accelerate the fatigue and exhaustion that's building up on me. He pressed on and attacked me with relentless pressure.

I would throw a jab here and there to stop him from banging me in close range, but it was not enough. I would throw the jab-jab-straight, but by this time the combination was getting slower and slower and it was getting too predictable. I was being punished more and more.

I would fake the straight right hand, and throw a barrage of left jabs just to confuse him. Then when he starts to neglect my right hand, I would throw it with all my remaining strength. It would connect sometimes, most of the time, it won't.

And when your power punches fail to connect, you suffer from fatigue even worse. Try punching against the wind, it tires you a lot more as compared to hitting a punching bag.

It was a close third round as I struggled to breathe. Round four was not a very engaging round. The fight switches from an aggressive fight into a more tactical and slow-paced fight.

He took control of the round as he chases me with body shots. I would throw some ineffective jabs and wildly misses with my straights. I couldn't find the right time to throw the left hook, the right uppercut was non-existent and I couldn't summon enough strength to go inside of his defense and unleash my favorite uppercut to the body.

I am too exhausted to throw anything and so I continued to lose the exchanges.
 
---

He wanted to continue with Round 5. I said I need to catch my breath to recover. He gave me time to recover and we paused for about 12 minutes.

We stepped out of the ring as I quickly run to fetch my water bottle. I was shaking my head in frustration, but I was happy to be able to land some punches. I could have done more, I could have thrown the combinations I was thinking of right before I entered the gym.. Where was the jab-straight-hook-straight combination? Where has the side-stepped movements gone? Where was the left upper cut? 

I don't know. Water tastes great as I struggled to breathe. I was looking for comfort, I found none. Everyone else was too busy with their own training routines.

---

"Parang wala ka sa kondisyon." My trainer would say to me. He instructed me to return back all the punches he would throw at me. He taught me to avoid his jab just a little to the left and counter with a hook-straight combination. He taught me to weave just a little under to my right and throw the right upper hook combination. He basically taught me to use my legs and hips to shift my body weight and counter punch.

I smiled. I thought I'm not agile enough at this point for using my hips to avoid being punched in the face. I thought I would rather step back and run away from the punches. I'm not afraid, I'm just incapable of avoiding fast punches at close range. Maybe I will learn the trick in the future, but the future isn't now. I thought I'll be much safer at the outside rather than bobbing and weaving in the inside.

So I'm listening to instructions but not applying them in practice? Yes. hehehe.

---

The rest period ends. We climbed back to the ring to finish the six rounds. There was less than two minutes on the timer, so it's not an official round yet, but he said "Practice muna tapos dalawang rounds pa tayo after neto."

We touched gloves, and then started the half-round battle. I charged in again with the aggressiveness that I used to start the first round. I had fully recovered.

I would throw the jab-straight hook to him as I get outbalanced after the poor position I had after throwing the left hook. But never mind, he's close enough for me to throw the right uppercut. So I pushed him with my jab-semi-straight punch and then uppercut to the body. It all connected as planned.

We came back to the center of the ring and he would let me throw first. I capitalized as I connected once more with my jab-jab-straight combinations.

At this point in time, he knew very well that I'm relying too much on my right hand to close the gap. So I shifted my attack with a left jab, left hook and left upper combinations.

Back to the center of the ring, he just smiled at me and urges me to throw more. I obliged, I threw a jab-left hook straightcombination and connected beautifully. He's trapped again against the ropes so I capitalized at the positional advantage and threw my favorite close rang combination of jab-semi-straight and uppercut to the body.

He smiled it off. I stepped closer and threw a jab, he did not avoid it. That's the time I knew he wasn't serious. He's just playing around with me the whole round.

The playing round ends.

--

The official round 5 starts. He said, "OK seryoso na!" I did not like to play around and I definitely don't want anybody playing around with me. So I charged in right away and pushed him to the ropes. I threw everything I've got. Jab, hooks, uppercuts. Stepped back and threw it all again. And then when he just stayed at the corner, I threw it all again.

"Bakbakan na!", shouted his co-trainer who's watching the fight at ring side. The shout motivated my trainer and he bagan t thow back all the punches I dished out at him. Uppercuts and hooks to my body. I sensed the pressure so I back pedaled, he wouldn't allow any of it as he chases me against the ropes.

He whacked my body with crunching hooks and upper cuts. I would throw jabs to keep him at a safe distance but it was too few and inaccurate. He would pummel my body more and more.

I felt every body shots that he threw. I was breathing hard and I couldn't move my body as freely as before, my muscles are tightening. It hurts.

But I needed to survive the round and to do that, I needed to move away from him. It would have frustrated the other trainer who shouted "Bakbakan na!", only to find out that I'm retreating and running away from body punches.

Mercifully, the round ends.

Breathing becomes shallow, too fast and the fatigue becomes too evident in me. Only 30 seconds to recover in between rounds. Obviously, it wasn't enough for me to recover in that 30-second period. 

The clock sounded for another three-minute round. I can breathe better now, but the fight that I'd like to give, the toe-to toe aggressiveness that I was capable of in the first two rounds, I couldn't sustain. 

So I just stayed far away enough from him to avoid getting caught. It was a boring style, but I couldn't help it with the fatigue. I could have pushed my body to bring the fight on, "Bakbakan na!", but I worried I might not be able to finish the round If I did. I would have dropped down involuntarily from exhaustion.

I would flick a jab, step back. Flick another one, step back. He would step in closer, I would step back away from him. Flick a jab, step back.

It was effective, sometimes I'll get the jab to touch his face and bother him. If it misses, I have stepped back far enough to avoid his own set of punches.

Again it was boring yet very effective. I got to rest a bit more. And he couldn't get in close enough to hurt me.

But he wouldn't let it that way, he pushes in and chases with left hooks to the head and right hooks to the body. I would see it from the distance and back away with two and three more step backs.

I would flick a jab again to keep him away from me.  Another jab. Double jabs. Just to prevent him from coming close. 

"Use your right. Right lead first." The gym manager shouted as he tried to coach me.

I thought my opponent expected me to react and throw a right. So instead of a right, I threw a series of left jabs. Then I back pedaled when he starts to throw punches.

"Right lead. Kanan muna." The manager instructs me again.

I faked with the right, and then threw a left jab. It seemed like I frustrated the coaching manager, but it helped me connect with my left jabs more. All because my opponent expects me to throw the right as to follow instructions from the manager. Everytime the manager shouted "Right", I threw lefts. Hehehe.

Jab-jab. I kept myself busy throwing jabs and stepping back to avoid punches. When my opponent unloads his combinations, I would step back more and more.

From the outside, the manager of the gym said "Ayy, runner o!"

I didn't mind at the moment. I couldn't avoid the punches with the amount of fatigue in my body. I knew I would be absorbing tons of punishment if I stayed close against my opponent. So I backed up far away. I looked like a coward in the manager's eyes, but deep inside I knew that was the only way I would have survived the attack. 

"Last longer." I said that to myself as the clock reads 0:47 seconds more before the round ends.

The manager stops shouting instructions, and that was the time I started throwing a lead right straight.

It was a strategical first punch for a right-handed boxer (like me) against a left-handed (my trainer). Leading with a right hand and turning away from the strong hand of my opponent gives me a positional advantage.

And I was able to utilize that strategy at least two times. I still couldn't be aggressive enough to put up combinations so I was content to throw a jab and stay away.

And the round ends. The fight ends.

--

Being described as a runner when you're trying to be a boxer is a slap in the face. As a boxer, you are supposed to fight, not run. So the comment hurt me. I struggled to recompose myself afterwards.

I went out of the ring and sat down at ringside near the ring ropes.  I was very sad thinking of that comment coming from the gym manager.

He also commented that I was a showboat. He said that because I seemed to be trying to attract attention by shuffling my feet too much and by bobbing my head when it really  isn't necessary.

I spent around ten minutes contemplating on how I really performed and if I really was (1) a runner and (2) a showboat.

My trainer approached me and apologize for a cut lip that was caused by his strong left straight. He said we would have to improve on my counter punching skills, my straight punch, bobbing and weaving to avoid punches, left hooks. He urged me to train my abdominal muscles to make it leaner and stronger so I could be able to absorb body punches much better.

He reminded me to utilize the right hand more and to avoid stepping back too much. (At that point, I thought the manager told him what was wrong with my style.)

I just nodded. I promised myself I would train harder and prove the manager that I ain't no runner.

---

The best quote I received after telling this story was from my officemate and friend, boss Mack. He told me:

"ok lng yon. ikaw lang nakakaalam kung ano ang totoo mong potential.  mas naniniwala ako sayo kaysa may-ari ng gym"

--
As an inspirational song.. I turned my ear to rapper Eminem and hoped that next time, I can be a lot better and prove my worth atop the boxing ring.

"Sometimes you just feel tired.You feel weak. And when you feel weak, you feel like you wanna just give up. But you gotta search within you, gotta find that inner strength and just pull that shit out of you, and get that motivation to not give up, and not be a quitter, no matter how bad you wanna just fall flat on your face and collapse. "

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