> Got my bell rung bigtime today, and only by luck did I save face. I train regularly,
> but never fight... just to stay in shape. Today, a guy about half my age and a head
> taller wanted to spar with me. I haven't sparred in years... so I'm like, what the
> hell, right? It might be fun, and I'll just stay out of his way and see how long I
> can go. Gatinha's not here to talk sense into me, so I glove up.
>
> Half way through the second round I am WINDED... I could not breath. Then it
> happened, we both threw literally simultaneous devastating punches to the face, and
> we both connected solid, but he knocked me back with stars in my eyes... I literally
> heard a popping noise and saw sparklers everwhere, and as I was reeling backwards I
> saw him reeling backwards too. I could hear people cheering, because it must have
> been something to watch. Though our punches may have been exactly landed at the same
> time, he caught my jaw perfectly, and I was spinning. I was having a hard time
> focusing and I knew I couldn't go on. All I could think about was to protect my face
> from what I was sure would be the follow-up knock-out punch, but it never came. I was
> trying hard to focus as the ref called us each to our corners. I thought for sure it
> was because the ref could tell I wouldn't be able to defend myself anymore, so I
> tried to walk to my corner with as much dignity as I could while the floor was moving
> all around under my feet, knowing there's no way I could continue. I was just this
> side of knocked-out, and I knew I was beat. He rang my bell good.
>
> Then they called the fight, and I thought I had lost because I wasn't able to focus
> on what was going on. When I got a good focus on what was really going on, the other
> guy had a gushing bloody nose, and they called it because of him! Wow. Everyone's
> patting me on the back and giving me props for taking out the young guy. And he comes
> over with cotton up his nose all like, "Good fight man, I thought I could take you,
> but you got me good." I kept it to myself that I was too winded to carry on even
> before the last punch, and then he damn near knocked me out entirely and only by pure
> luck that he got a bloody nose did I not go down in flames.
>
> I left the gym with everyone fist bumping me, and asking about a rematch. No Way.
> Anybody paying attention would have noticed he cleaned my clock.
>
> Yeah... too old for yet another thing. Don't know what I was thinking. Whew.
You could try an Ironman Triathlon, Mike Adamle finished one when he was 60.
Oh for Pete's sake.
loser.com
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